You Go To My Head
by reticentwanderess
Summary: A Hancock x Nora romance. Hancock, Goodneighbor's most eligible bachelor, is disenchanted with love after his first marriage ends poorly. And after Nate's untimely death and Shaun's kidnapping, Nora is left resentful and bitter. They both thought that they were too broken to love or be loved ever again. But they were wrong. Love will always find a way to bring torn souls together.
1. Introduction

**You Go To My Head**

...

A Hancock x Nora Romance Inspired by the late, great Billie Holiday's hit song, "You Go To My Head."

Please listen to that song before reading this story as it sets the mood.

The lyrics to the song, which I believe are public domain, are provided below for your perusal.

As a disclaimer, this will be a slow burn romance story within a much larger Fallout storyline.

So, prepare for a marathon, not a sprint.

And there will be spoilers, both quest and otherwise. You've been warned.

Enjoy!

...

"You Go to My Head"

Written and Performed By Billie Holiday

"You go to my head  
And you linger like a haunting refrain  
And I find you spinning round in my brain  
Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne

You go to my head  
Like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew  
And I find the very mention of you  
Like the kicker in a julep or two

The thrill of the thought  
That you might give a thought to my plea  
Casts a spell over me

Still I say to myself "Get a hold of yourself"  
Can't you see that it never can be

You go to my head  
With a smile that makes my temperature rise  
Like a summer with a thousand Julys  
You intoxicate my soul with your eyes

Though I'm certain that this heart of mine  
Hasn't a ghost of a chance in this crazy romance  
You go to my head  
You go to my head

Though I'm certain that this heart of mine  
Hasn't a ghost of a chance in this crazy romance  
You go to my head  
You go to my head."

...


	2. Prologue

You Go To My Head

Prologue:

...

The Boylston Club is a famous bar nestled in the heart of old Boston. Once a tomb for Boston's wealthy elite, who ended their own lives knowing they had no place or privilege in a post-nuclear world, the Club now serves a different clientele. It's well-regarded as an oasis for weary travelers, settlers, and caravanners alike; a much needed distraction and safe haven in a chaotic, uncertain world. A mysterious proprietor conducted renovations to the bar after the infamous Vault Dweller defeated the monster of Swan's Pond in 2290. The Club's interior has been heavily refurbished – the floors, tabletops, chairs, and bar have been remade with dark mahogany wood. The couches and cushions have been reupholstered with a black and burgundy velvet material. A single chandelier composed of radstag horns and lit torches hangs in the center of the room casting a warm, flickering light upon the establishment. The wall directly facing Swan's Pond was demolished and an outdoor patio area was built. String lights hang along the railing of the patio and several small tables provide a quieter, more intimate environment for the Club's patrons.

Around midnight, an old ghoul walks into the Club. Surveying the room cautiously and recognizing no one of import, the old ghoul saunters towards the bar. He picks a secluded spot towards the end and perches himself upon the wooden stool. He removes a preserved cigar from his front coat pocket and places it gently on his lips as he fumbles around for his lighter. It had been a long time since he had smoked one of these cigars, the familiar sweet taste brought back happy memories of a better time in his life. As he lit the cigar, the flame cast a bright, warm glow onto his wrinkled face. He allowed the flame to linger slightly longer than normal. He caught himself staring too deeply into the fire and abruptly flipped the lighter's lid shut.

The barkeep approached the old ghoul. "What'll it be tonight, sir?" the barkeep asked. "Bourbon. Double," the old ghoul said wearily. He looked around the room as if he were expecting someone "Actually, make it two," he said raising two weathered fingers. The barkeep nodded and placed two half-full crystal glasses on the bar in front of him.

Several minutes passed by or maybe it was hours. It was very easy for him to lose track of time these days. The old ghoul listened apathetically to the murmur of the bar's other patrons as he smoked his cigar. With his keen sense of hearing, in part due to the fact that his irradiated eardrums were no longer obstructed by several layers of flesh and cartilage, the old ghoul could eavesdrop of any conversation he wanted. But tonight, he was not interested in small talk. His ears searched the room and they honed in on a small radio above the bar playing soft classical music. He focused his attention on that sound and all other sounds eventually dissipated.

His mind began to wander as he slowly sipped his bourbon. Consolation No.3 by Franz Liszt came on the radio. The old ghoul sighed contently. This song brought back some of the happiest memories he had; his memories of her. A small smile crept onto his face as he remembered that night on the rooftop garden terrace. This song was playing softly in the background. That night, though dusk was rapidly approaching, the sky was ablaze with vibrant red, yellow, and orange hues. The city's many skyscrapers, which once stood tall and proud as monuments to the technological successes of mankind, were now withered and frail just like the plants surrounding them in the garden. He remembered how beautiful she looked that night, adorned in a simple white dress standing behind the cracked concrete railing overlooking the city - a single white rose amongst a sea of lonely tombstones.

She turned towards him gracefully and gestured for him to approach, her smile melting his doubts and hesitations like butter in a hot pan. As he walked towards her, he could hear his own heart beating loudly in his ears. To say he wasn't terrified would have been a lie. He wasn't one to trust or put his heart out on the line, but when he cradled her in his arms, it just felt right. He was a creature of instinct; when that gut instinct took hold, he followed it unquestioningly. That woman made him feel something he had never felt before. It was dangerous for sure, like playing with lit matches after dousing one's self with gasoline. But, for some reason, he wasn't afraid of getting burned this time. This time was different, but he couldn't quite articulate why.

When he finally stood before her overlooking the city, all he could see was her eyes, her hair, her face. Nothing else in the world mattered at that moment. He pulled a thin silver band from his coat pocket and held it openly in the palm of his hand. He looked up at her with hope, longing, and terror. Whether she knew it or not, she held his entire life in her small, soft hands. He watched as her eyes widened with surprise. His heart was racing now, beating furiously in his chest like a wild animal fighting ferociously to free itself from the confines of a trap, a trap he just knowingly and stupidly walked into. He looked deeply into her emerald eyes while silently pleading with the gods or fate or nature or whatever forces ruled the universe. He would be devastated if she denied him. He was putting himself on the line, making himself vulnerable to her. He didn't know what he would do if she said no and he didn't really want to think about it. After what felt like an eternity, her surprise evolved into joy. She threw herself into his arms and kissed him intensely. That was the beginning of the best night of his life.

The old ghoul was so deep in his own reverie that he did not notice a hooded figure take the seat next to him at the bar. "You're a hard ghoul to find, Hancock," the hooded woman said softly. He chuckled, happy to hear a familiar voice. "Yet here you are," he replied with a grin. The woman laughed taking his hand into her own, her soft, ringed fingers intertwining with his. "You weren't thinking of running from me, were you?" the woman whispered teasingly. He turned towards her and slowly closed the distance between them. "From you?" he growled gently in her ear, his unoccupied hand finding its way onto her knee as he leaned even closer, "Never." The woman smiled and leaned in for a kiss; he happily indulged her. As they reluctantly pulled away, his hand caressed her cheek and his dark eyes rested a moment on her face. She looked up at him warmly and nuzzled his ringed hand. "Let's go home," she whispered. He smiled this time, a real smile. "I am home," he said lovingly, cradling her face in his hands, "now that you're here."

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on her forehead, inhaling deeply the faint scent of her perfume. He wanted so badly to hold onto that moment, the feeling of his naked soul being both accepted and understood, her ringed hand in his, their closeness… but he knew it wouldn't last. The smoky air around him began to vibrate and distort. He opened his eyes quickly, hoping to catch one more look at the mysterious woman he loved so dearly, but she was already gone. He sighed, watching as the rest of the bar slowly dematerialized and floated away like dust in the wind. He couldn't help but feel disappointed… again.

When he finally came to, he found himself lying on the couch in his office, an empty dispenser of jet on the table next to him. He sighed deeply. His daughter, Fahrenheit, sat across from him in a torn, red, moth-eaten chair apathetically smoking a cigarette. "The woman?" she asked him quizzically, raising an auburn eyebrow. Hancock grunted affirmatively as he sat up, trying in vain to hold onto that full, happy feeling in his chest, but it was like trying to grab smoke with your hands. Fahrenheit took a final puff of her cigarette and abruptly snuffed it out in the dirty ashtray on the table between them. "It's the third time this month," she noted, "What do you think that means?" Hancock shrugged. "With the sight, nothing is truly clear." He took another deep sigh. "But at least I got to see her again," he said with a sad smile.

Fahrenheit nodded but said nothing. She knew her father better than anyone else. They were all each other had after her mother abandoned them. Her mother's departure had been particularly difficult for her father. She had no choice but to grow up quickly to survive. Her father could put on that tough guy exterior all he wanted, but she knew that he had a soft heart deep down. Though he would never admit it, he was lonely. He wanted someone to love both his body and his mind. But when you're the boss of the Commonwealth's roughest settlement, you can't afford to trust anyone, especially not with matters of the heart. Love is weakness and many enemies would quickly take advantage of that weakness if given the opportunity.

She watched as her father popped two bright red Mentats into his mouth. "So," he asked her, "what's our next move?"

...


	3. Chapter 1: The War Room

You Go To My Head

Chapter 1: The War Room

…

"So," Hancock asked, "what's our next move?" He was now standing in front of the makeshift bar at the back of the room fixing himself a much-needed drink. With a glass of vodka in one hand and a box of fancy lads snack cakes in the other, Hancock slowly walked back towards the center of the room where the couches were. "Let's talk some strategy."

Fahrenheit rose from her seat and walked towards the double doors of Hancock's office. With a snap of her fingers, she motioned to the two Neighborhood Watch guards in the hallway to approach. They moved swiftly in unison to stand before her, submachine guns cocked and ready for her command. "Hancock and I have business to discuss," Fahrenheit stated curtly, "No one is to enter this room or bother us in any way unless it is an absolute emergency. Got it?" Both guards nodded, pivoted, and stood at attention in front of the double doors.

Before Fahrenheit could shut the doors, Hancock grabbed two full containers of jet from off of the coffee table and swaggered over to where the guards were standing. "Here's a little something extra," Hancock said with a wink and a wicked grin, "for after your shift." Both guards accepted his gift with delight. "Aw thanks, Hancock," gushed the red-headed guard with a thick Boston accent. "Tonight must be my lucky night!" the other guard said with a content sigh. Hancock tipped his classy tricorner hat and disappeared behind the old, wooden doors.

Hancock's office and lounge became a war room when the outside doors were shut. He took his usual seat on the stained, dotted sofa across from Fahrenheit. He watched lazily as she cleared off the paraphernalia and placed a makeshift map of the commonwealth on the table between them. She then pulled a small leather-bound notebook from her pocketed breastplate. Thumbing through the pages, she began to tell him of the most recent bits of news she'd gathered from their informants throughout the city.

"Trashcan Tim says that Grov's raiders on the Southside are recruiting again," Fahrenheit began with a bored tone, "They're no doubt preparing for a turf war with Frag's gang, who've holed up in that crusty abandoned office building where Jazz used to stay." Hancock nodded as he chomped on a chocolate crème cupcake.

"Oh yeah," he mumbled with his mouth full of cake, "I remember that place. It's a real dump. One good push and the whole building'll collapse." The corners of Fahrenheit's mouth turned upward in a slight smirk. "Frankly," Hancock continued, "I'm happy to stand by and let the trash take itself out for a change. Less raiders on the Southside means less danger for our guys out that way."

Fahrenheit nodded, scribbled a note in her book, and continued making her report. "And while we're being frank, Frankie's gunners are on the move again." Hancock thought of those gunners and grimaced. He had nothing but contempt for them after they gunned down a group of unarmed settlers, mostly women and children. The settlers were hiding in a house on the edge of Frankie's territory while actively trying to escape from a pack of feral ghouls. Frankie's boys caught them "trespassing" and iced them. Those settlers were sent to their death for simply trying to survive, just like the ghouls who were thrown out of Diamond City. Even after all these years, this was still a sore subject for him. He became increasingly morose just thinking about it.

"According to my intel," Fahrenheit continued noticing her father's sudden change of mood, "Frankie is down several guys after their run in with those Super Mutants in midtown." As she spoke, Fahrenheit pointed to the location of the conflict and indicated the general direction the wounded gunners went. Hancock chuckled darkly. "Good. Those assholes deserved what they got, especially after what they did to those settlers." Hancock paused the conversation as he finished his second drink. "Too bad those Super Mutants didn't finish the job. If you know where those radroaches are holed up, maybe Justice and I will pay 'em a visit..." Hancock said patting the top of his minigun lovingly. "Yeah, I think they need some Justice…"

Hancock was both brutal and fair in equal measure. He wasn't one to stand by while innocent people got hurt. 'Never again,' he would often say referring to the darker time in his life where he felt powerless to change bad things that were happening around him. Fahrenheit knew her father well enough to know that it was a bad idea to let him continue his current train of thought.

"We also have intel from Reggie." she interrupted. "He says that there are some low-life chem peddlers on the east side who are trying to undercut our chem operation. They're encroaching on our territory and selling chems to our regular buyers for a lower price. If they continue, they could potentially halt our sales in that quadrant." Hancock's dark eyes narrowed dangerously. "Who are they?" he asked impatiently. Fahrenheit flipped the page in her notebook and scrolled through her notes. "Reggie doesn't know their names or gang affiliation. He says they aren't from around here but all of their dealers wear the same brand on their clothes – a black skull with a red handprint across the forehead." Hancock rolled his eyes. "I want to put my handprint across their foreheads... expeditiously… with prejudice."

They had been in the war room for a little over an hour at this point. Feeling the need for some sugar and caffeine, Fahrenheit walked over to the counter and grabbed a Nuka Cola. She lingered for a moment and then decided it was best to grab the half empty bottle of vodka and bring it back to the table with her. Pouring himself a third drink, Hancock laughed. "You knew I was gonna ask for it eventually…"

He then took a cigarette from the open pack on the table, lit it, and inhaled deeply. He leaned back into the couch, stretched out his arms, and rested his head on the headrest. "We can handle this – encroachment – problem a couple of ways," Hancock said as he stared at the ceiling, his exhaled smoke meandering its way slowly upwards. "We can kill 'em, acquisition 'em, tax 'em, or scare 'em," he said, counting each method with his withered fingers. Looking back at Fahrenheit, Hancock pressed her for more information. "I guess my question to you is this," he asked, "Are they openly hostile to us or do you think their encroachment is a misunderstanding?"

"I'm not sure," Fahrenheit began with a small shrug, "but they'd have to be crazy to fuck with us. I'd start off giving them the benefit of the doubt. Reg says they're not locals so maybe they think that its open turf." A few moments passed as they considered their options. Fahrenheit was the first to break the silence. "Maybe we can start by scaring them and work our way backwards through your list." Hancock agreed, finishing the rest of his vodka.

"I think we should send Jack and Eddie," Fahrenheit suggested, "They're well-trained, loyal, and thirsty to prove themselves to us. I think we should give them the opportunity to do so." Hancock made his way back to the makeshift bar to grab another snack. "Yeah," he said as he grabbed a box of Sugar Bombs off the counter. "Eddie's a brawny motherfucker and Jack's got the brains. Smoosh 'em together and you've got a good team."

Fahrenheit chuckled at the thought of smooshing Jack and Eddie together. Jack was a five foot nothing, baby-faced swindler who was skilled – no – gifted in the arts of persuasion. She'd personally observed him sell a "deathclaw egg" to some smug upper stands asshole who claimed to be an expert on the matter. Turns out, it was just a large mirelurk egg he picked up while taking a stroll on the beach with some love interest of his northwest of town. Needless to say, he made a small fortune off of that transaction. Jack was cunning; a smart guy with sharp intuition.

On the other hand, Eddie was the exact opposite. Standing at nearly 7 feet tall, with a bald head and bushy red lumberjack beard, Eddie's mere presence was intimidating. But what he gained in terms of physical strength he lacked in intelligence. Even a super mutant grunt was probably more articulate than Eddie. But you don't need to be articulate when you can rip the door off of an old vehicle and beat a raider boss to death with it. Fahrenheit nodded – Jack and Eddie together should be able to handle a couple of low-end chem peddlers without too many problems.

She heard a loud rustling noise as Hancock broke into the box of Sugar Bombs. "What else is new?" he asked, holding the open box above his head tilting it downwards for maximum, optimal consumption. Fahrenheit hesitated for a few moments as Hancock crunched contently.

"Well?" he asked again, quietly, raising a hairless eyebrow. Fahrenheit took a deep breath. "I think I found the seer." Hancock noticeably perked up at this news. He sat straight up on the couch and put the box of cereal on the floor next to him. "Okay," he said rubbing his hands together expectantly, "Tell me whatcha know." Fahrenheit thumbed through her notebook to the last entry. "I've heard rumors of an old woman in Quincy – a fortune teller. My informants tell me that she's mastered the ways of the sight and that her readings are pretty spot on."

"Finally! Some good news!" Hancock said excitedly. "So, we've got a lead, but how do we contact her?" Fahrenheit consulted her notebook once more. "Apparently its simple. You bring her a cocktail of chems and she'll tell you what she sees." Hancock stood up quickly and walked over to the broken oven in the corner of the room. From inside the oven, he retrieved a large assortment of chems from his personal stash. He placed the chems in a small backpack and secured them tightly.

"Here's the chems," Hancock said giving Fahrenheit the bag. "Make the arrangements with this seer and get back to me with a date and time – the sooner the better." Fahrenheit took the bag and made a mental note to connect with their other contacts once she made it to Quincy. "Will do," she said. "That's all the news I've got right now." Hancock nodded, indicating that discussions were complete. Fahrenheit got up and walked out of the office.

As she made her way to KLEO's and Daisy's for supplies, Fahrenheit was deep in thought. She hoped that this seer had the answers her father sought. She hesitated even bringing it up to him but she hated seeing her father so forlorn. She also hated seeing him disappointed. She didn't want to get his hopes up in case this woman turned out to be a charlatan. But, on the rare off chance that this woman actually had the gift of sight, she might be able to help him make sense of the visions that he had been seeing.

And for her father, there was nothing Fahrenheit wouldn't do to help him. They were family. His blood ran through her veins and that meant something to her. He made many sacrifices in his life to protect her and mold her into the powerful, independent woman that she was. He was always there for her when she needed something, and she would do her damnedest to make sure she was there for him too. With a renewed sense of purpose, Fahrenheit walked through the gates of Goodneighbor and started her trek to Quincy.

…


	4. Chapter 2: The Blue Woman

You Go To My Head

Chapter 2: The Blue Woman

…

Fahrenheit had never been to Quincy before, so she wasn't quite sure what to expect. As she neared the walled perimeter of the settlement, she noticed that it was relatively well-kept. The buildings that she could observe appeared to be old and worn, but sturdy. This settlement, unlike many others she had seen, had working electricity and what smelled to be decent food; she caught the savory, hearty scent of roasting meat wafting in the late evening air from about 500 yards outside the gate. Her stomach rumbled with anticipation.

When she approached the gate, a man in combat armor greeted her, his loaded automatic pipe pistol in hand. "Hold up!" the man yelled when she was within 100 feet of the gate. "What's your business here?" Fahrenheit held up a large burlap sack filled with an assortment of supplies. "I'm here to trade!" she called back. It wasn't a complete lie but it wasn't the truth either. "I've got weapons, armor, and medical supplies… Diamond City's best!"

The man then aimed a bright spotlight on her position. Seeing the burlap sack and a cluster of stimpaks in her hand, the man motioned for her to approach. "Alright," the man said cautiously, "You're welcome to come in and trade. But keep your weapons holstered. We don't need any trouble. Talk to Clint if you need a place to stay for the night." Fahrenheit nodded and entered the settlement.

Once inside the gate, Fahrenheit went immediately to the small restaurant and ate. She was starving. Quincy was much farther away than she anticipated and she was already out of radstag jerky. She made sure to go ahead and resupply her stock of nonperishable food for her trip home. She then walked over to some of the vendors to sell her wares. While selling her weapons, she asked the weapons vendor about the town and its residents. He didn't tell her anything about an old lady or someone gifted with the sight. She sighed heavily.

She then went to the next store to sell her armor and clothing. She asked the armor vendor similar questions about the town and its residents. Nothing. Finally, she stopped by the pharmacy to sell her medical supplies. She asked again about the town and its residents but the doctor was tight-lipped. He wasn't going to tell her, an outsider, anything.

As she walked out of the pharmacy, her burlap sack significantly lighter than before, she felt herself start to panic a little. Maybe her intel about the old woman was inaccurate – maybe this woman was a myth. She felt a deep pang of guilt – she would feel so bad if she had to go back to Goodneighbor without finding the old woman. She wouldn't be able to stand the look of disappointment on her father's face if she let him down. He was so excited earlier when she first told him about the seer. The quality of intel she received was usually good, but sometimes it wasn't and this is why she hesitated telling him in the first place. She sighed heavily.

With an impending sense of dread hanging over her head like a dark storm cloud, Fahrenheit decided that she needed a drink. She walked over to the bar and found a table in the corner by herself. She ordered a bottle of vodka and began to drink. She normally wasn't a heavy drinker but she was feeling a little down because she didn't find the seer. And she normally didn't drink alone, but the bar was pretty empty and the bartender wasn't the chatty type. So, she sat alone drinking shot after shot of vodka while listening to the songs played on Diamond City Radio.

Diamond City Radio only played a handful of songs because most music was destroyed or lost when the bombs fell. Between the impact of the explosions and the heavy radiation, most music stored electronically was corrupted. And most of the music still available in a physical form was destroyed or corrupted in the wars that followed the initial destruction in 2077. Now, in 2287, the only music that remains viable in the commonwealth is a handful of vinyl records that were in storage in the basement of the Boston Public Library. Those records now belong to Diamond City Radio.

Despite hearing the same fifteen to twenty songs played repetitively, Fahrenheit felt nostalgic when she heard them. No matter where she was or who she was with, she would think of fond memories, good times she had with friends and family.

When she finally decided to call it a night, she stumbled out of the bar and heard a commotion inside the pharmacy across the street. A man and a woman were yelling. "No!" Fahrenheit heard the man yell. "I've told you a hundred times! I'm not selling you any more chems! You can't control yourself, Mama! You're an addict. You're sick and you need help and I will NOT be responsible for your death!"

"No one's asking you to be responsible for me, Jerry!" the woman yelled back angrily. "I'm a grown woman and I can make my own choices! If I want to use chems, then that's my decision – not yours! I don't need you to make my decisions for me! Now, are you going to take my caps or not?"

Fahrenheit eavesdropped with anticipation. This lady obviously needed a fix and people like that weren't the type to mess around. Things could get ugly. Standing directly outside the bar, she watched as a man in a white lab coat, the doctor she had met earlier, escort a woman out of the pharmacy. The woman was dressed in varying shades of blue from head to toe. She also wore a blue silk head wrap.

"No, Mama," the doctor said. "Your caps are no good here and I will never sell you chems ever again. Please. Stop. Asking." The doctor then walked back into the pharmacy and shut the door.

The woman in blue was both petite and irate – a tiny maelstrom – yelling obscenities and beating her little fists on the wooden door. Fahrenheit grinned – the woman raising hell about chems was old. She had to be at least 70. Fahrenheit admired her ferocity and she fit the description of the seer she was looking for.

"You're a pretentious, self-important ASS, Jerry! You can look down on me all you want for my chem use – in fact, all of you can," the blue woman yelled, turning around and gesturing wildly, wiggling a pruney finger at all of the settlers who had stopped to watch the commotion. "But it's my decision and my decision only. I don't give a single, solitary fuck about your opinions! I'll do what I want!" the woman in blue yelled belligerently.

At this point, the guard Fahrenheit met at the gate earlier walked up to the blue woman and took her by the elbow. "Alright, Mama.," the guard said tiredly, "That's enough. Let's go." The blue woman struggled at first, slapping at the guard's armor with a futile fury. But her anger was short lived and her age finally took its toll. The blue woman allowed the guard to lead her away from the crowd. "Sure, sure," the woman said with indignation, "Take me to lock up. I'm tired of seeing all of you assholes anyway. I just wanted some jet."

Fahrenheit smiled. This was the only old woman she had seen in the settlement. And it was obvious that the lady was a chem user. Perhaps she wasn't as out of luck as she thought. This could very well be the woman she was looking for. She followed the guard and the blue woman at a distance, watching them walk into the Quincy Police Station. Fahrenheit waited until the gate guard walked away before entering the door leading to the lock-up.

A single security guard sat downstairs at a desk in front of the jail cells. Fahrenheit walked up to him and asked how many caps it would take to bail the old woman out of jail. The security guard looked up at her with a bored expression on his face. "Are you sure you want to deal with Mama?" he asked, "She's a real piece of work, especially when she is going through chem withdrawal. She's our only regular guest here at the Quincy hotel. She's even got her own suite. Heh heh heh."

Fahrenheit stared blankly as the guard laughed at his own lame joke. She dropped a small, drawstring bag of caps on the desk and the guard's eyes lit up greedily. "Let me get the key. Now, try to keep her outta trouble, will ya? You hear that, Mama?" the guard said loudly as he walked over to the woman's cell, "You gotta be on your best behavior or you'll come right back to lock up." The woman in blue scoffed as she was released. "Let's get outta here," she said red-faced, grabbing onto Fahrenheit's arm.

Once they were outside, the woman led Fahrenheit to an apartment building. "I'm on the third floor," the woman said pointing upwards. "I'm Mama Murphy, by the way. I know we've got business to discuss. Let's talk upstairs." Fahrenheit nodded and accompanied Mama to her apartment.

Mama's apartment was nice for commonwealth standards. She had a row of skylights on her roof displaying the moon and stars above. She also had her own balcony overlooking Quincy; from the third floor, she had quite the view. She had a double bed on one side of her apartment and a worn red couch-and-chair set on the other. Mama sat cross-legged in the chair and placed her hands in her lap. She gestured for Fahrenheit to sit on the couch opposite her. "So," Mama asked as Fahrenheit made herself comfortable, "What can I do for you?"

Fahrenheit pulled out the small bag of chems from within her burlap sack and gave them to Mama. "I hear that you have the gift of sight," Fahrenheit said, lighting a cigarette. "I know someone who is interested in your… unique abilities." Mama nodded sifting through the bag's contents. "Sure," Mama said with a knowing smile, "anything for Mayor Hancock of Goodneighbor."

Fahrenheit's eyes widened in surprise. She was good. "How did you know that?" she asked with a confused expression on her face. Mama laughed and pulled out a small piece of paper with her father's handwriting on it. At the bottom of the paper was her father's signature in large, bold, cursive font. Fahrenheit laughed. She forgot that her father had placed a handwritten note in with the bag of chems explaining what he wanted from the seer.

After the ladies exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, Fahrenheit locked down a time and place where Mama Murphy and Hancock could meet. They would meet in Mama's apartment at sundown three days from tomorrow. Mama offered Fahrenheit the couch to sleep on for the night as it was very late. Fahrenheit gratefully accepted. She'd need her strength for the journey back home.

…

With Fahrenheit gone to Quincy, Hancock had the office to himself. He loved his daughter dearly, but he also appreciated what small personal time he had. His thoughts had been scattered lately and there was nothing better than some time alone to sort them out.

Sprawling out on the red couch, his head comfortably resting on the armrest, Hancock pulled a bottle of Daytripper from his coat pocket. He reserved this rare chem for special occasions when he needed to slow down, relax, and reminisce. He pulled two small, green, flower-shaped pills from the bottle and placed them under his tongue. He felt them dissolve rapidly. Within 5 minutes, he began to feel the chem's sedative effect.

With a content sigh, Hancock pulled his tricorner hat over his face and crossed his arms over his stomach. Time itself seemed to slow around him. He felt cloudlike and wispy, as if the weight from all of his heavy thoughts and responsibilities were lifted off of his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, Hancock could feel his heart rate slowing slightly. He focused on the sound of his heartbeat until that was all he could hear.

It was at times like these when he felt truly free. Hancock forgot how good it felt to have no responsibilities and no worries. He relished in that feeling. Sometimes his mayoral duties took a toll on him. He wanted Goodneighbor to be a place where anyone could come and live free from judgment and oppression. It was not his place to judge anyone else for their decisions, but occasionally his political philosophy and his duties as an authority figure conflicted. When this happened, he had to make a tough decision – whether to respect individual freedoms or protect the community as a whole. He felt like he was having to make tough decisions more often lately and it was wearing on him.

He sighed. Sometimes that classy tricorner hat – his badge of office – felt heavy and burdensome. He didn't want the power of authority to corrupt him like it had his older brother. He never wanted to be like that. Maybe it was time to take a walk and get his mind straight… But he couldn't leave just yet. There were so many threats to Goodneighbor that he needed to deal with before he could safely take a leave of absence.

He thought of the recent super mutant attacks. The super mutants were tough bastards to kill. They were warriors by nature and relished in battle. War and victory was all they cared about. He knew that they would never stop until they took over everything. Their attacks were becoming more frequent and that troubled Hancock. He didn't want to imagine what terrible things would happen if Goodneighbor were ever to be overrun. He would feel directly responsible for what happened and didn't think he could live with himself if he ever failed to protect the people he cared about.

Trying to escape his darker thoughts, his mind wandered to his visions and the seer. He wanted to know why he kept seeing this mysterious woman in his dreams. The most infuriating part of it all was that he could never remember who she was, what she looked like, or what her voice sounded like. She could walk up to him right now and shake his hand and he would not recognize her. And all of his visions of her were – well – slightly romanticized.

He didn't label himself as a romantic ghoul – the idea of himself brandishing a bouquet of red radroses and singing love songs to beautiful damsels in tall towers really wasn't his thing. He promised himself after his first marriage ended badly that he was off the market – permanently. He wasn't willing to put his heart on the line like that again, to watch someone he loved and respected change into a monster he barely knew. He didn't think he could handle the pain of another heartbreak – the next time might very well be the end of him.

Despite all of this, he was always chasing after the mysterious woman in his dreams and that scared him. He didn't know if he was truly ready for another hot-and-heavy relationship like the one he had with his first wife and Fahrenheit's mother, Lena.

He met Lena as a child in Diamond City when he was still John McDonough. Lena was an upper stands girl and he – well – he was from the field. This girl was out of his league and he knew it. But that didn't stop him from pursuing her as they got older. His older brother liked to hang around the upper stands trying to brownnose his way into their good graces. Sometimes he would tag along just to see her.

Lena wanted to be a doctor, so she was studying medicine with the late Doctor Sun Senior. John would watch as she patched up cuts and gunshot wounds. Lena didn't seem to care who was injured, only that she gave them the best treatment she could. And John McDonough loved her, particularly for her kind heart and warm demeanor. However, as time went by, John felt something change within her for the worst.

Towards the end of their marriage, John realized that he had been in love with an idyllic version of Lena that he created in his own mind, and that the real Lena was not the woman he thought she was. He thought that she was different, that she wasn't a typical upper stands snob. He truly believed that she cared about all people, including those on the field, but he was wrong.

Fahrenheit was 8 when his brother ran for Mayor of Diamond City. To John's shock and disgust, his wife Lena was one of the first to openly support the anti-ghoul crusade. John argued with her at length, trying to understand why a doctor, someone who was supposed to care about helping others, would support a policy that would send people to their deaths. He remembered her blank expression as she casually told him that 'ghouls aren't people.' He couldn't believe what he heard.

He also pled with his brother to stop, that his policy would send helpless ghouls – their long-time neighbors and friends – to their deaths. His brother just smiled and said that the will of the people must be honored. He remembered walking up to his brother – his face inches from his brother's face. "Ghouls are people too." John said with indignation. His brother didn't say anything – he just smiled. John felt sick to his stomach. He felt powerless – too weak to stop the terrible things happening around him. He didn't stay in Diamond City much longer after that.

He remembered the night he left Diamond City. He got liquored up and stormed into their home. Lena was sitting at the table with a bunch of anti-ghoul flyers. They had a verbal altercation which resulted with John throwing his wedding band on the floor at Lena's feet. He was done. John couldn't stand the thought of being married to someone so callous and heartless. She didn't seem phased though. She told him that if he didn't like it, he could leave. He didn't even know who she was anymore.

He remembered walking into Fahrenheit's room after their altercation and seeing her sleeping peacefully in her bed, completely ignorant of what was going on around her. He felt himself tearing up as he reached down to brush her bright red hair out of her cute freckled face. She looked up at him and rubbed her eyes sleepily. She had his eyes... "What's wrong?" Fahrenheit asked. He couldn't answer her, his voice failing to articulate all of the complex emotions he was feeling. But when he looked at his daughter, his flesh and blood, his path was clear. Scooping his daughter into his arms, he made his way towards the door. No daughter of his was going to stay in this cesspool.

Lena tried to fight with him about taking Fahrenheit, but John just kept walking with Fahrenheit in his arms towards the exit. Once they were out of the city, Lena pulled her gun on him and shot it upwards into the air. Three warning shots. John knew that she wouldn't dare shoot at him with Fahrenheit in his arms, but he laid her gently in the back of an abandoned orange pickup truck right outside the city just in case.

Lena wasn't who he thought she was. She was full of surprises lately and he wasn't taking any chances where his daughter was concerned. "Stay down," John told Fahrenheit softly, "I'll be right back." Fahrenheit complied, wide-eyed and afraid. John ruffled her hair lovingly. "It's gonna be alright," he promised. "Your mom and I just need to talk about grown up stuff. Stay here, okay?"

John walked over towards Lena and they exchanged heated words. Lena shoved him several times during their lengthy argument. He never once fought back. He then tried to talk softly to Lena, appealing to her sense of common decency. He even attempted to embrace her, but she was far too angry. She brought her fists down onto his chest, hitting him several times. He didn't do anything to stop the violence – he just stood there and took it.

Lena screamed at him, calling him weak and pathetic. He remembered how her words made him feel – hollow, and wretched. "Please," he pleaded, "Come with us. Not for me but for our daughter. She can't stay here." Lena turned on him. "Why not?" she hissed. "She's better off here with reputable and respectable people than with those junkie, low-life, criminal friends of yours." John scoffed. "I'd rather be with those junkies and criminals than stay another minute here with you… murderer." He felt relief as the truth that had been bottling up in his chest for weeks was finally released.

Lena became dangerously calm and looked him directly in the eyes. "Fine," she said with a hint of venom in her voice. "I want nothing to do with you…" John expected that. But then Lena then looked towards the truck where Fahrenheit was hiding, teary-eyed and confused. "Either of you." she whispered. John's heart stopped. He didn't think she would be that cruel, especially towards her own daughter. But Lena turned and started to walk away.

As Lena walked away, Fahrenheit stood up in the back of the orange truck and called after her mother. Despite Fahrenheit's many pained cries for her mother, Lena didn't stop or even bother to look back. Lena just ignored her, walking away and disappearing into darkness. John stood there in the middle of the street flabbergasted. He felt like nothing… less than nothing. He honestly wanted to end it all right there, but when he heard Fahrenheit sobbing, he found the strength to pull himself together. If he felt worthless in this moment, he could only imagine what Fahrenheit was feeling.

John turned and walked back to the truck. He sat with Fahrenheit in the truckbed trying to console her. She didn't understand what was happening and John did his best to explain in a way he thought she'd understand. "Your mom and I are taking a time-out," he told her. "Sometimes grown-ups need time away from each other to think about things. But don't worry. Everything is gonna be okay. I've got you."

He watched as his tiny, teary-eyed daughter processed what he told her. "She…" Fahrenheit whispered between sobs, "she didn't come to me… when I called. She… left me…" John was openly crying at this point, his heart breaking not only for himself but also for his daughter. He wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly. They sat in the back of that truck until dawn. He remembered when the sun began to rise, Fahrenheit finally looked up at him with as tough of a face as she could muster. "We're gonna be okay, dad," she said matter-of-factly. "Where are we going to go?" she asked. John gave her a small smile. They would have to go to the only place he knew they'd be welcome. Goodneighbor. "I've got a place in mind," John told her, helping her out of the truck. "Let's go to our new home."

Looking back on that incident, that was the moment when Fahrenheit grew up. He hated that she had to go through that kind of emotional pain, that she had to grow up far more quickly than he ever intended her to. But he didn't regret his choice of taking her with him. He couldn't bear to leave her behind. If there was a silver lining, it would be that she was stronger and wiser because of that incident. She learned that not everyone can be trusted, even family, and that knowledge would serve her well in the Commonwealth. After they both were ready, John took her to Goodneighbor with him and started teaching her about weapons and fighting techniques – she'd need those skills to survive.

Several years after John left Diamond City, he heard that Lena had been killed while shipping medical supplies to a nearby settlement. Although they had their issues, John had no beef with her. He definitely didn't want anything bad to happen to her. He just couldn't stand to be with her anymore after her support of the anti-ghoul crusade.

Fahrenheit didn't take the news well. She was 13 when she heard. She put on a tough face and acted like she didn't care about the mother who abandoned her. But Hancock knew that face well, as he recognized himself doing the same thing. Despite her tough girl persona, deep down she was in great pain – a part of her was still the child in the back of the pickup truck. He felt guilty… incredibly guilty, but justified.

As the Daytripper was wearing off, he laughed sadly. That was not the trip he intended to go on when he took the chem earlier. But, Daytripper was one of those chems where you couldn't control what thoughts or feelings came to your mind. Sometimes, he would take the chem and feel warm and happy, other times he would feel sad. It was a toss up, and tonight, he was sad. But there was something therapeutic about releasing pent-up pain – it was difficult at first having to relive trauma, but afterwards he felt stronger for having survived that.

A few more minutes passed in silence until he heard a knock on his office door. Keeping the tricorner hat over his moistened eyes, he called for the person knocking on the door to come into the room. "I'm back," he heard his daughter say wearily. "I met the seer. You'll like her. She's a real firecracker. We'll meet her in two days at her apartment in Quincy." Hancock stealthily dried his eyes and sat up on the couch. "Perfect," he said happily. "Thanks for setting everything up. You always do such a great job."

"Flatterer," Fahrenheit said with a smirk as she turned to leave the room. "Wait, wait, wait," Hancock said quickly rising to his feet. He walked over to where his tough-girl, hell-on-wheels daughter was standing. He abruptly wrapped her in a big bear hug. "You know I love you, right, Ladybug?" Hancock said with a big, proud grin on his face. Fahrenheit laughed and playfully pushed him away. "I know, dad. Geez… how high are you?" Hancock grinned widely and looked up towards the ceiling. Fahrenheit bust out laughing. "Okay, but don't come at me with that mushy shit," Fahrenheit said smiling. "I have a reputation to uphold."

"I know, I know," he said walking towards their snack cabinet. He grabbed a nuka cola and a box of fancy lads snack cakes and tossed them at Fahrenheit, who was now sitting on the couch. "Rest up," he said, "we should leave by noon tomorrow if we want to make it there in time."

…

After Fahrenheit rested up and resupplied, she and Hancock made their way to Quincy. Hancock decided to wear regular civilian clothing. His normal duds were likely to be recognized. He didn't want his clothing, and his reputation, to keep him out of Quincy, particularly if they weren't a chem-friendly settlement. So he wore a greaser jacket and dark jeans with holes in the knees.

Their trip was relatively uneventful except for a few bugs. But bugs didn't stand a chance against their miniguns, Ashmaker and Justice. It was late afternoon when they finally reached Quincy. Fahrenheit showed the gate guard her burlap sack and Hancock pretended to be a caravan guard. Both were allowed entrance. Fahrenheit sold her gear and Hancock ate a few bowls of noodles at the local restaurant. They weren't as good as Diamond City noodles, but they were a close second.

Fahrenheit then led Hancock to the apartment building and they went upstairs to Mama Murphy's apartment. Mama Murphy, dressed in all blue, greeted them warmly at the door. She welcomed them inside and told them to get comfortable on the red couch in the corner. Once everyone was seated and comfortable, Mama Murphy started asking them questions.

"So," Mama began, "tell me about your visions." Hancock told her about the vision, the mysterious woman, the bar, the proposal, and his complicated feelings. Mama asked him if he could see the woman clearly or if she was simply a silhouette. He told her that all he remembered of the mysterious woman was her eyes – they were dark green, like emeralds. But green eyes are common, so that would not help him identify her.

When he was done telling her all he could, Mama Murphy explained how her gift worked. "So," she said intensely, "I will ask you for a specific chem. Give it to me. Then ask me a question. It helps me focus on what you're looking for. Then, I'll enter the void, the realm of sight, and tell you what I see." Hancock and Fahrenheit exchanged glances. "But you can only ask me one question at a time," Mama warned. "I can probably take up to 4 rounds of chems safely. After that, I risk overdose or mental damage from being in the void too long. And at my age, the sight takes a lot out of me."

Hancock nodded, indicating that he understood. "Are you ready?" Mama asked. "Yeah," Hancock said nervously. "Give me the jet," Mama Murphy said nestling in her comfortable chair. Hancock complied. She inhaled and exhaled several deep breaths of jet. When the container was empty, she placed it on the table next to her chair, leaned back, and focused her attention on the ceiling. As the jet began to take effect, she felt the room shift and distort.

"Ask a question." Mama said quietly. Hancock thought for a moment. "Who is the woman I keep seeing in my dreams?" Mama placed her hands in her lap. "Okay," Mama Murphy said calmly. "I'm going into the void now. I'll tell you what I see as I see it." She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. Hancock watched as her pale blue eyes lost focus and slowly rolled back into her skull. All he could see now were the whites of her eyes and that made him feel uneasy. He wasn't a superstitious ghoul by any means, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of what would come next.

Mama Murphy's head drooped lazily to the side and she began to speak. "I'm in now. I'm on a hilltop. Its… mid-morning and the sun is shining. I can see tall trees all around with orange, yellow, and red leaves. I see a nice settlement nearby… Sanctuary…" Mama Murphy gasped softly. "Gods, its beautiful here – this must be pre-war."

"Pre-war? Are you sure?" Hancock asked.

"Yes," Mama Murphy said softly, her white eyes widening slightly as if she were taking in all of the scenery she could. "I don't sense the nuclear decay that I sense here in our time. This place is… clean." She paused for a few moments. "I see a family – in a house – a man standing in the doorway, a woman, and a baby in a crib… It's blurry but its there…"

Then she suddenly gasped and pushed her entire body back against the chair as if she were trying to get away from something quickly. Hancock's eyes widened. "What do you see?" he asked with anticipation. Mama Murphy began to shake her head slightly from left to right, her mouth slightly agape. "I see the bombs falling. There is a great panic. I hear screaming…" Hancock and Fahrenheit exchanged nervous glances.

Mama Murphy looked around the room. "Now I'm back on the hilltop. At my feet is a large… gear? Grate? No," Mama Murphy said, "I've seen this before…" Her white eyes looked over at the Vault-Tec calendar in the corner near her bed. "Prepared for the future..." she said in a monotone voice, "It's the entrance to a Vault. I'm on the platform – going down into the earth – just in time, it seems." Mama Murphy looked up at the ceiling for a moment, and then straight ahead. "Another moment and I would have been killed by the radiation from those bombs." Mama Murphy said looking slightly relieved.

Hancock could hear his heart beating in his ears. He clenched his fists tightly, then released them hoping that the action would steady him as it had in the past. He was very aware of the tension and anticipation in the room – it was so thick that he could cut it with his knife. A few moments passed in uneasy silence before Mama Murphy began speaking again. "Deep within the bowels of the earth, inside this Vault, I see… an open door. I walk through the door into a room, maybe…" she thought for a moment. "maybe sixty paces long by thirty paces wide in size. Towards the end of this room is a great, white – machine?"

Mama Murphy looked confused. "It looks like an egg," she explained, "and I'm gonna call it that. I'm approaching the egg and I see something inside, but its… blurry," she said squinting her eyes. "Give me two buffout pills."

Hancock complied and she consumed them quickly. Her eyes were still white. "Ask me a question," Mama said. Hancock sat up on the edge of his seat. "What's in this egg?"

"Okay," Mama said, "I'm looking inside the egg and I see… a woman! She's young… dark brown hair… pale. Her face is relaxed and her eyes are closed. She's… sleeping. Perhaps this is your woman, Hancock."

Hancock nodded his head. "Maybe," he said, "I've never gotten a good look at her and if I did, I don't remember anything except her eyes."

Mama Murphy sighed. "All around her is a great, dense, white fog," she explained. "I'm reaching out through the egg's walls to touch her." Mama Murphy visibly shivered. "She is cold like ice… but very much alive. I'm pressing my fingers on her neck and I feel a pulse. It's faint but it's there."

"What else can you tell me about the woman?" Hancock asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I'm placing my hand over her heart and I feel – panic – something terrible happened to her. I also feel – pain, sorrow, helplessness. She is a woman out of time and… out of hope…" Mama Murphy's face twisted in pain and a single tear began to fall from her white eyes.

"Give me the mentats." Mama Murphy said, her voice breaking. Hancock placed the container of mentats in her hand and she put two of them in her mouth. "Ask your question."

"The woman… her pain… what caused it?" Hancock asked.

"I'm turning around," she said quietly. "I see another egg. Inside is a man – the man from the doorway in the house… but he is not like the woman. He's… different… dead. I see a gunshot wound on his chest. But wait, there's something else there. In his hands - a piece of… cloth… in his clenched fist. I… feel it… it's soft and…" she paused. Her eyes widened with understanding. "Oh no…" Mama Murphy trailed off, looking even more glum than before. She was crying openly now, tears were streaming down her face.

"What is it?" Hancock asked gently taking her hand into his. "What's wrong?"

Mama Murphy sniffled. "I know that fabric from my own experiences," she cried, agony clearly marring her wizened face. Her white eyes looked down at the floor. "That piece of torn cloth in the dead man's hands comes from…" Mama Murphy paused for a moment trying to regain herself. She sighed sadly. "It comes from a baby's blanket… I see it now. Yes… I see little rocket ships on it…"

"Where is the baby? Do you see it nearby?" Hancock asked. Mama Murphy looked around the room, her white eyes searching intently. "No, the baby isn't here. He's been… taken… far away… underground… I can't see him… all I see is white light…"

"Fuck…" Hancock said in disbelief shaking his head. "So he's dead?" he asked. Mama shook her head. "No, he's alive… I can sense his life force. But he was… taken away while the woman and man were trapped in the eggs… considering the gunshot wound, I think the man was murdered trying to protect the child… It explains why the torn fabric is there and why there is a bullet in his chest…" Hancock hissed softly. "Why would someone do that? Murder a man and steal his baby?"

Mama Murphy looked like she was in pain, her white eyes brimming with tears. "Do you see anything else?" Hancock asked in a soft, calming tone. He took a clean cloth from his coat pocket and dried Mama Murphy's eyes.

"Thank you," Mama Murphy whispered before taking a deep, steadying breath. "I need the psycho now." Hancock gave her the psycho and she injected it into her arm. Mama Murphy's breathing became more ragged as the high-intensity chem tore its way through her blood stream.

"I'm looking at the woman in the egg again. And this time, she is… wriggling… fighting… Trying to break free from the yolk that restrains her." Mama Murphy stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She was clearly in pain. The chems were beginning to run their course. "I think she's waking up," Mama Murphy said quietly, her head bobbing like she was struggling to stay conscious. "In the background I hear a noise – a loud, rhythmic beeping… it sounds like…"

"Like an alarm?" Fahrenheit suggested.

"Yes…" Mama Murphy said wearily as psycho's effects started wearing off. She paused, sweat beading down her face. "Time's up…" Mama said weakly. "The woman's awakening is near. I can see her eyes opening…" Hancock looked at her intently. "When?" he asked. "Soon…" Mama said pausing again in attempts to regain herself. "And Hancock," Mama Murphy said gently taking his hand into hers, "Her eyes.. they're green… like you saw…"

With that, Mama Murphy's pale blue eyes slowly lowered themselves back to their normal position. She was panting and began coughing violently. Hancock steadied her. "Thank you," he said to her. "Are you gonna be alright?" Mama Murphy was rapidly losing all of the color in her face. She began shaking uncontrollably. "Just help me get to my bed," she rasped. "I need to rest."

Hancock and Fahrenheit tucked Mama Murphy into her bed just as she lost consciousness. They sat a few minutes in silence trying to comprehend all that they heard. "It sounds like this Vault Dweller is the woman you've been seeing in your visions," Fahrenheit said quietly. "At least now you know what she looks like and what some of her issues are." Hancock nodded. He was deep in thought piecing together what Mama Murphy told him with his own visions – he wanted a full picture.

"I'm gonna need some time to take this all in," Hancock mumbled. "I'm gonna stay with Mama Murphy and make sure she's okay before I leave." Fahrenheit nodded. "Do you want me to stay too?" His heart dropped remembering his thoughts while taking Daytripper the day before. Hancock looked up at her wide-eyed. "Of course, Ladybug," he said gently with a tired smile. "You can have the couch. I'll take the floor."

…


	5. Chapter 3: Awakening

You Go To My Head

Chapter 3: Awakening

…

Mama Murphy did not sleep well that night. As she tossed and turned, feverish and nauseous, she knew that she should not have taken the psycho. Psycho took a serious toll on her frail, old body. But, she just couldn't help herself. She wanted to know more about this woman as well.

A feeling deep down in her gut told her that this woman was important, not just to Hancock, but to the entire Commonwealth. And when her intuition spoke to her, she listened. For several hours that night, she labored – drifting in and out of consciousness. Finally, shortly after dawn, her pain subsided and she woke up.

The first thing she noticed as she regained consciousness was the smell of food cooking. It was a salty, savory smell. She also smelled something sweet, but she couldn't quite tell what it was.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that Hancock had placed the red chair next to her bedside. She also saw that he had set up a small chemistry station on her nightstand. Next to an assortment of glass cylinders and crystal bottles filled with varying ingredients were several home-made stimpaks. Two had already been used, but several more remained. Mama smiled. Hancock must have been monitoring her, making sure she was alright.

As she slowly sat up in her bed, she saw that Hancock was currently making breakfast and boiling water on her tiny wood stove in the corner. He was still in his bedclothes; a holey white t-shirt and navy blue striped bed pants. He was rocking side-to-side and humming a song she couldn't quite remember the name of as he flipped over the meat cooking on the stove. She watched as he dropped a cloth into the boiling water. He let it sit for a few seconds before fishing it out again with his combat knife.

"I see you've been busy," Mama said weakly. "I hope you got some rest last night." Hancock kept his back to her but turned his head so that he could see her in his peripheral vision. "Yeah, I'm good," he said nonchalantly as he continued flipping the meat on the stove. "We ghouls don't need that much sleep." Dropping the spatula, Hancock picked up the boiled cloth and carefully wrung it out.

Walking over to her bedside, Hancock placed the warm, damp cloth on Mama Murphy's forehead. "Welcome back," he said warmly. "You had me worried there for a bit. Breakfast is ready if you think you can eat something." Mama nodded. Hancock placed a few small razorgrain pancakes with mutfruit sauce and a few strips of salted Brahmin meat on a plate and brought it to her. Mama happily began to eat – she didn't realize how hungry she was until the food was in front of her. With food, she was feeling revitalized.

Hancock returned to the stove and prepared two more plates. "Far! Breakfast is ready!" he called from the red chair, stuffing several slices of the brahmin meat into his mouth. "It's on the stove!" Mama could hear footsteps approaching from downstairs. Fahrenheit sauntered over to the stove and picked up her plate. She smooshed a razorgrain pancake into a ball with her hands and popped it into her mouth. Mama couldn't help but giggle at their unconventional table manners - like father, like daughter she supposed. The three ate in relative silence.

"Thanks for breakfast, Hancock," Mama said feeling a bit stronger than she had before. "The sight has given me a lot to think about, but I need more rest."

Hancock nodded. "Do you want us to stay here until you're feeling better?" he asked. "We don't mind. I love Goodneighbor but its nice to get out every now and then." Mama shook her head, indicating that it was not necessary for them to stay. She'd be okay now that the worst had passed.

"In that case, we'll go ahead and get out of your hair so you can focus on getting better," Hancock said as he gathered everyone's plates and utensils. Fahrenheit began cleaning up the living area and packing their belongings.

As they cleaned and packed, Mama told them that when she felt well enough to walk, she was going to go have a chat with Quincy's mayor again about requesting the Minutemen's aid. As she was tossing and turning the night before, she saw things in the void that were concerning. Quincy would need to be prepared for the days to come as Mama was certain that trouble was afoot.

Once they were all packed, Hancock thanked Mama Murphy again for all of her help and they said their goodbyes. He left her a few home-made stimpaks on the dresser and some food on the stove for when she got hungry later on.

...

Compared to their stay in Quincy, the return to Goodneighbor was rather uneventful. It rained most of the time with an occasional radioactive storm. Hancock actually liked the radioactive storms – a ghoul could never get enough rads. To a Ghoul, radiation felt like rays of bright, warm sunshine after a long, dark, cold winter – like diving into a pool of cool water after hiking several days in the summer desert sun; it was immensely satisfying.

As Hancock enjoyed the glorious bursts of radioactivity in the air around them, poor Fahrenheit had to continuously take Rad-ex. While her armor provided fantastic ballistics and energy resistance, it lacked in protection against radioactivity. Hancock often joked that she needed to become a ghoul like her old man – then her armor would be complete. She would be both immortal and invincible and the two of them, wizened and ghoulified, could rule the cosmos in perpetuity. While it was a highly unlikely that would ever come to pass, it couldn't hurt to dream a little.

Once they were back in Goodneighbor, they settled in, showered, and returned to the familiar red and white couches in Hancock's office. Several members of the Neighborhood Watch stopped by to give them reports of things that took place while they were away. Apparently it had been rather eventful: several bar fights, a structure fire, a stabbing, and an attempted murder – Hancock had to laugh. Goodneighbor was many things, but it was never boring.

After hearing all of the reports he missed while he was away, Hancock decided that he needed some fresh air. Grabbing his pack of cigarettes and a dirty ashtray, he walked outside onto the second-floor deck overlooking Goodneighbor. He hopped up onto the deck's railing and sat facing the old Statehouse. He began to fumble around in the pockets of his red frock coat for his lighter.

Fahrenheit was just returning from the Third Rail and decided to join him on the deck for a smoke. While he continued to search his clothes in vain for the missing lighter, she covertly grabbed a cigarette out of his pack because her own was empty. She then reached out and unzipped the right front pocket of his red coat and withdrew the old flip lighter he was looking for. He looked stunned – he had just checked that pocket. Chuckling, Fahrenheit lit her own cigarette first before giving him his lighter back.

"So," Fahrenheit said quietly with a mischievous grin, "now that we're back home, do you want to talk about that crazy shit we saw at Mama Murphy's?" Hancock snorted loudly and began to laugh. He knew where this was going. Fahrenheit was a tough girl – she wasn't afraid of anything she could face with her wits or her minigun. But she was not comfortable with the paranormal. Ghosts, aliens, and otherworldly things that could not be simply explained with logic and reason freaked her out. Personally, Hancock was surprised that she sat through Mama Murphy's visions without screaming in terror or punching something.

"I have NEVER seen someone's eyes do that before!" she continued. "That was like some next level exorcism shit." Hancock continued to laugh. "I was waiting for her head to start spinning and bugs to fly out of her mouth! So creepy!" The harder he laughed, the more animated she became. "And when she gasped really loudly that one time – when she said the bombs were falling – it scared me so bad I thought I was gonna piss myself." He was crying now and was struggling to breathe. He wished that Fahrenheit would have sat in front of him so that he could have watched her facial expressions during the visions. He was certain that they would have been comedy gold.

"Don't lie. That shit freaked you out too, didn't it?" Fahrenheit asked grinning widely. Catching his breath, Hancock agreed. "Yeah," he said wiping tears from his eyes. "It was an… um… unusual experience for sure. But I'm really glad she was willing to help me out."

Once they were done chatting and smoking, Hancock decided to call it an early night. He wanted to reflect on everything Mama Murphy told him. He went to his bedroom across the hall from his office. He changed into his comfortable bedclothes and laid down. He grabbed a container of Jet from the nightstand next to his bed and began to inhale its contents. He loved Jet – it was a familiar sweet feeling of release. While not as potent as Daytripper, he felt that he could control his thoughts a bit better with Jet. It was a smoother ride in his opinion.

Within a few minutes, he felt the chem take effect. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander. He watched as the blackness around him slowly began to take shape. He could see a dim ball of light in the distance, like a small candlelight in a vast, dark room. He walked towards it slowly. When he finally reached the light, something told him that he should touch it. So, he did. He watched in awe as ripples of light expanded in every direction around him. It was trippy.

When the ripples stopped, he was standing in a hallway. At the end of the hallway to the left appeared to be a door. He walked to the door and into a large room full of what appeared to be incubators. He'd seen machines like those before when he visited a radchicken farm as a boy. But the incubators in this room were much bigger. He walked slowly down one of the isles, observing each incubator. There were people inside these machines! His stomach dropped. Where was he?

He stopped at the end of one of the isles and looked into a small glass window. There was a dim light and a thinning white mist, but he could make out the silhouette of a person. His heart was starting to beat quickly now - What was he seeing? Suddenly, all of the lights in the room flipped on and all of the incubators lit up like a strand of Halloween lights.

Looking back into the glass, Hancock could clearly make out the face of a woman. Although her head was slightly slumped forward, he could see that she had dark wavy hair and pale skin, a small nose, and defined lips. She was beautiful… His heart stopped - was this her? Hancock could not have moved if he wanted to. Seeing this woman for the first time shook him to his core. He felt a deep sense of longing.

As he observed the woman through the glass, he became aware that the room was beginning to dematerialize around him – the walls of the room were beginning to vibrate and shake. "Shit!" he said loudly, knowing that the Jet was wearing off.

He looked at the woman through the glass trying diligently to memorize her face. He wanted to remember what she looked like when he woke up. He didn't want to forget this time. As the room around him was slowly returning to blackness, his eyes never left her face. Consciousness was dragging him kicking and screaming back to his bedroom in Goodneighbor whether he liked it or not, but he was fighting it as hard as he could.

In his last few seconds in the incubation room, he saw the woman twitch. He watched as she raised her head and opened her eyes. Her expression in that moment of awakening was difficult to read – it was a mixture of surprise and sorrow. But another emotion was brewing within her. He watched as her brows furrowed and she let out a silenced scream. She began to bang her fists on the incubator's door in an attempt to get out. Hancock quickly stepped back. She was angry now - unmistakably angry. The incubator's door slowly opened and the woman fell to the concrete floor with a thud.

She was coughing violently and her breathing was labored, but despite her physical condition, she shakily rose to her feet. They were standing face to face now. She was of a healthy weight, not too thin, not too muscular. And she was just slightly shorter than he was, but not by very much. She looked around the room for a moment, as if searching for something. But then, she slowly turned her head and looked right at him with piercing green eyes. It was like she knew that something was there watching her somehow – like she could actually see him.

As the room returned to blackness, he stood there feeling his heart doing acrobatics like a trapeze artist inside his ribcage. The mysterious woman from his visions was finally awake.

…


	6. Chapter 4: Nora

You Go To My Head

Chapter 4: Nora

…

Nora was a tough girl – strong-willed, adventurous, and sharp as a tack – but nothing, absolutely nothing, could have ever prepared her for what she was currently experiencing. Fragmented memories of recent events were slowly replaying in her mind. She remembered the strange people in white clothes opening Nate's pod, them struggling over Shaun, the bald man lifting his gun… oh god.

She stood in front of Nate's pod, paralyzed in absolute disbelief. Inside that pod was the man that she loved more than life itself. The man who was always there for her. The man who went to great lengths to make sure that she was happy and taken care of. The man whose smile and laughter was so bright that it could put the sun to shame. The man who would cuddle up with her on the couch and talk about life, religion, philosophy, and pop culture deep into the early morning hours. The man who would drop whatever he was doing when she was overwhelmed (as young lawyers often are) and help her prepare for her court cases. Nate always saw value in her even when she couldn't see it for herself. He was her best friend, her lover, her husband, her life partner, and the father of their child – and he was gone… forever.

She reached out and pulled the lever on the control panel. The pod slowly opened and a cold, white mist engulfed her. In her mind, she knew that Nate was dead, but her heart still clung to some naive hope that her mind was wrong. That he could be saved. That this whole thing was just some sick joke – a nightmare that she would be able to wake up from if she pinched herself hard enough. She just could not imagine a world without Nate in it.

She climbed into Nate's pod so that she could check various points on his body for any sign of a pulse. She placed her trembling fingers on his neck and waited for several seconds hoping in vain that she would feel something, anything that would let her know he was still alive. But there was nothing. With the reality of her situation hitting her like a freight train, Nora began to weep bitterly. She let out several agonizing cries as she wrapped her arms around Nate and laid her head on his shoulder.

She didn't know how long she stayed there, wailing miserably over the loss of her love. At some point, she pulled back and shakily held his hands in hers. This could not be happening.

While she had his hands in her own, she felt that he was holding something. Opening his hand, Nora saw that it was a torn sliver of Shaun's baby blanket, the blue one with little rocket ships on it. In that moment, holding that tiny shred of cloth in the palm of her hand, she felt the sharp pang of grief's poisoned blade as it ripped into her, dicing her heart like a tomato. Not only had she lost her best friend and the love of her life, she also lost her child… The grief of their loss was too much for Nora to handle. No one should ever have to suffer a loss like that.

Her lamentations continued for an unknown amount of time. When her shaky legs could no longer support her body, she slowly slid to the floor in front of Nate's pod. Her emotions were wreaking havoc on her physical body. She felt like someone had hit her repeatedly in the stomach with a baseball bat – she felt nauseous and could barely breathe. At some point in her grief and panic, she lost consciousness.

When she woke back up, she felt emotionally drained and exhausted. She needed to get out of this fresh hell. Using the indentions in Nate's footrest to lift herself up off of the cold and uncaring floor, she managed to stand. Although she knew that she couldn't handle much more pain, she took one last look at Nate. She promised that she would remember him the way he was when he was alive – his jokes, his laugh, his easy-going nature, his strong hands, his warm brown eyes… She felt her already knotted stomach beginning to twist further.

Nora took Nate's wedding band and the sliver of Shaun's blanket. She wrapped the ring into the blanket and put them both in the front pocket of her Vault Suit so that they were resting next to her heart. Closing Nate's pod, she swore to the universe and all of the gods who would listen that she would find the miserable sack of shit that did this and make them pay. This was personal. Anyone involved in the murder of her husband or the kidnapping of her child was going to die by her hands.

Whereas grief made her feel weak and powerless, like a puddle of skin and bone on the floor, rage made her feel invulnerable, invincible. Rage was the power armor that she would have to put on to help her get through these difficult times. And justice – no - vengeance gave her a purpose, a reason to continue living. While she wanted nothing more than to join Nate, and most likely Shaun too, in the afterlife, she could not die without first holding the people who hurt her loved ones accountable for their transgressions.

Feeling stronger by the second, Nora began to make her way back to the Vault's entrance. She was on a mission and the gods help any poor fool who got in her way.

…


	7. Chapter 5: The Road to Sanctuary

You Go To My Head

Chapter 5: The Road to Sanctuary

…

Mama Murphy really hoped that she didn't just lead the remaining Quincy survivors to their deaths. She, Sturges, Marcy and Jun Long, and the last Minuteman were holed up in a museum in Concord trying to fight off Raider trash. She told them that they should get inside this building when the Raiders ambushed them.

She had seen this building weeks ago after her chem session with Mayor Hancock of Goodneighbor. She had many strange visions that night, including the one where Quincy was attacked. But the betrayal – she did not see that coming. If only she had more chems and more strength, she could have prevented all of this from happening… she berated herself mercilessly.

Now, their only hope was to fend off the raiders and make it safely to Sanctuary. But no matter how many raiders Preston killed with his laser musket, more just kept coming. They'd run out of ammo eventually – and out of luck which concerned her. Luck was usually on her side…

Mama was also worried because she couldn't find her canine companion – Dogmeat. In the hustle and chaos of the raider ambush, they'd been separated. She hoped that he was okay. He was always such a good boy.

At that moment, Preston ran back into the room where the rest of them were waiting anxiously. Wiping his sweaty brow with the back of his gloved hand, he grabbed more ammunition out of his pack. "This is the last of the ammo," Preston said ominously. "I sure hope we get help soon, otherwise…" He stopped short seeing the look of panic on Jun Long's face. Preston placed a hand on Jun's shoulder. "Don't worry," Preston said with a sense of strong-willed determination. "We're gonna get through this."

Before Marcy could start complaining, Sturges chimed in. "I don't know if you saw this before as we ran in, but there's a crashed vertibird on the roof. I wanna go check it out." Preston nodded. "That's a good idea," he said placing the last bit of ammo into his pack. Both men exited the room in a hurry. Mama just sat on the bench and closed her eyes – if she concentrated hard enough, maybe she could see a way for them to escape…

…

This was bad, really bad. The raiders just kept coming. No matter how many Preston shot, another would take its place. It felt like it would never end. And Preston tried to downplay this negativity while he was in the room with the settlers, but they were in some seriously deep shit. This raider gang was not normal raider trash. These raiders were from the Corvega plant in Lexington and nothing good came out of there.

From his intel prior to being betrayed in Quincy, Jared, the leader of the Corvega gang, was insane and needed test subjects for some crazy experiment. Something about using chems to see things that aren't supposed to be seen. It sounded nuts to him when he first heard about it, but then he met Mama Murphy. She could see things – perhaps the whole reason they were being followed and attacked in the first place was because of her.

But Preston didn't tell the rest of the settlers that information because he knew that giving the raiders what they wanted would not spare their lives. Gunners could be paid off or bargained with, but raiders – especially Corvega raiders – were known for their savage ruthlessness and wouldn't stop until everyone was dead. They killed for fun and sport, not money.

He had to keep fighting even if it was a losing battle. If protecting these settlers meant that he'd die in this museum, then so be it. His mind was made up. He continued shooting at raiders as they popped up in Concord's streets.

He was down to his last two containers of ammo when he caught a glimpse of something moving very quickly towards the raiders holed up at the end of the street. He then heard yelling and growling. It was Mama Murphy's dog! The dog was drawing the raiders into the streets where he could conveniently pick them off with his laser musket. Dogmeat was such a good boy!

Then, Preston saw something else – something… blue. Preston watched as a person in a blue jumpsuit shot several of the raiders. Preston smiled with relief remembering the old military saying, "the enemy of my enemy is my friend." Whoever this person was, they might be able to help.

When the person in the blue jumpsuit was within hearing range, Preston called out to them. He was down to the last container of ammo and some raiders had just broken past their barricade into the museum. He had to go protect the inside now. Hopefully that person in blue would come into the museum and help them. Otherwise things could get messy.

…

If you would have asked Nora a year ago where she thought she'd be now, she would never have guessed that she'd be firing weapons at mean strangers in a revolutionary war museum. Treading carefully through the museum's exhibits, she kept her body low to the ground and her gun raised. She made sure to check around each corner to make sure that she didn't run carelessly into an enemy.

The dog she found earlier was leading her up the stairs. She had been scavenging supplies from the Red Rocket gas station when this perfectly healthy, well-tended dog ran up to her. When the dog saw her, he made a scene. The dog was clearly in distress, running around in circles, panting and barking. It wanted her to follow and, being a dog lover, she did.

As they reached the base of the staircase, Nora heard the dog growl softly – something was ahead. As she ascended the staircase, she saw what the dog was growling at. Two strangely clothed men were banging on the door at the end of the hallway. One looked like a mummy – or someone in a full body cast. The man was wearing white long johns, armor made of what appeared to be PVC pipe and vacuum hoses, and a strange head wrap that covered his entire head except his eyes and mouth. The other looked like a typical grunt wearing road leathers and a leather chest piece.

"When I get in there, you're all dead!" the man in long johns yelled. The dog growled menacingly. The man in leather heard the dog growl and saw her as she quickly ducked back around the corner. "Hey!" the man in leather yelled to his friend. "We've got company! Someone's shooting up the place and I think I just saw them!" Both men turned and drew their weapons. The dog growled viciously and took off towards the two men with his hackles raised and his teeth bared.

While the dog caused a distraction, Nora took this opportunity to reload and aim her gun at the enemy closest to her. She took a deep breath and upon exhale fired three shots in rapid succession. Two hit the man's right shoulder and the third hit him in the chest, piercing through his leather armor. He fell to the floor with a thud. Before she could aim at the other man, the dog had him pinned to the floor and was attempting to bite his face.

Nora watched for a moment in awe – this cute, fluffy dog was skilled and trained to kill. Seeing no good shot, Nora inched closer, gun raised. The man managed to kick the dog off of him and, when he did, Nora shot him twice – once in the upper ribcage and once in the right above the collarbone. Within seconds he was no longer a threat.

After quickly checking the bodies for supplies, Nora ran to the door and loudly identified herself. The door unlocked and quickly opened. The man from the balcony was standing there with a crew of weary, ragged settlers. "Man, am I glad to see you!" the man said with relief. "I'm Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen." He stretched out his hand to shake hers. She smiled and shook his hand.

"Now, I'm going backwards in time," Nora said quietly with a small smile. Preston told her their situation and a mechanic named Sturges told her their plan of attack. It was crazy plan – completely mad – but it might work. The element of surprise was always likely to yield an advantage against an unprepared enemy.

As Nora bent down to pull more 10mm ammunition out of her pack to reload her magazines, she heard a soft gasp come from her left. One of the settlers, an old woman in a blue turban, was noticeably staring at her. The old woman's eyes were the size of golf balls and her mouth was slightly agape. Before Nora could inquire, the old woman spoke to her.

"You're not what I expected Dogmeat would find in that little neighborhood," the woman said with a tired grin, "But oh, so much better." Nora wasn't exactly sure how to respond. Something about the old woman was disconcerting. Nora felt like her privacy was being invaded simply by being near the old woman – like she could see right through her…

But Nora didn't have time to stay and chat. The raider threat wasn't going to take care of itself and she felt compelled to help these poor settlers. She couldn't just leave them. Nora raced up to the roof and put on the suit of power armor. She remembered power armor being advertised in her time as the ultimate in self-protection. This claim was about to be tested.

Grabbing the minigun, Nora got a running start and leaped off of the building onto the street below. Damn, it felt good to fly – even for a moment. When she landed, she fired up the mini gun – the raiders didn't stand a chance. With their leather armor and weird metal and pipe contraptions, they may as well have been wearing suits of tin foil – that mini gun sure packed one hell of a punch.

As she made her way to the end of the street, one of the raiders, apparently their leader tossed a frag grenade in her direction. Not wanting to jeopardize the efficiency of her power armor, she quickly ran into a nearby open building. The grenade went off in the street behind her with a loud bang. But, for some reason, it sounded louder than it should have been. Peeking her head out of the door, she saw something that would haunt her nightmares for weeks to come.

From the depths of the earth, she watched as a giant scaled claw reached out and dug its sharp black talons into the pavement. This claw was the size of a truck tire. Nora's heart began to race. Whatever this thing was, it was bad fucking news. She needed to think quickly if she was going to survive. She looked around and saw two abandoned vehicles near where the creature was emerging. Grabbing two frag grenades from her belt, she pulled the pins and lobbed one at each of the cars.

She ducked back into the building as both frag grenades exploded. With shrapnel flying everywhere, Nora then lobbed a Molotov at each car. Two small fires began. She then started the mini gun and ran wildly out into the street. Watching as the creature emerged from the depths, Nora had never been more thankful to be in power armor. She felt her knees turn to jello at the mere sight of the thing.

This was an apex predator for sure. It had sharp claws for rending the flesh of its enemies. It had thick, gray scales to protect it from taking damage. It wore a crown of sharp, jagged horns atop its large, elongated skull. And its teeth… Nora just hoped that her plan of attack would work. Otherwise, she would become this thing's snack. The mini-gun was putting many bullets into this creature, but it seemed to annoy the creature rather than hurt it.

The fire in the car farthest from the creature reached the fuel tank and the car exploded with a loud bang. Nora watched as a large metal rod flew off of the car and pierced the lower rib of the creature. Nora smiled. Now she knew that these things could be injured. Focusing the mini-gun's fire on the creature's weakened ribs, Nora could see that her attacks were having a more profound effect.

With an angry shriek, the creature ripped the metal rod out of its side and threw it to the ground. Rearing its ugly head in her direction, the creature ran and lunged at Nora. Quickly side-stepping the creature, Nora kept her focus on the mini-gun. That would be her best shot at survival. The creature turned around and let out a mighty roar. It was pissed now. The fire in the second vehicle was starting to heat up. Nora needed to get the creature closer to the vehicle…

Stopping her fire, Nora ran several paces to the left and placed herself on the other side of the burning vehicle. The creature followed, growling dangerously. Nora threw another Molotov at the second vehicle hoping to speed up the explosion. She then started her minigun fire back up, focusing on the creature's injured ribcage. The creature shrieked violently and began to charge her. She tried to side-step the creature as she had before, but she found out that this creature was intelligent and learned quickly from its past mistakes.

When she tried to side-step the creature, it stuck out its leg which effectively knocked her off balance. As she regained her footing, the creature raised its giant claw and swiped at her head. Nora stopped her mini gun fire and raised her arms instinctively to protect her face – and it was a good thing that she did. The force of the creature's blow sent her tumbling backwards and her minigun flying. The minigun was now out of her reach.

This malevolent lizard was both strong and smart –a deadly combination considering its natural weapons and defenses. To her dismay, Nora learned that it was difficult to stand back up in power armor once you were on the ground. As she struggled to get back on her feet, the creature lunged once more, knocking her back down and pinning her to the ground.

With her minigun out of reach, Nora grabbed her 10mm pistol from her side holster and began to shoot the creature at point blank range in the face. The bullets pierced the creature's thick skin, but barely. The creature roared and slapped the gun out of her hand. This was about to get ugly.

Nora grabbed her combat knife from her right hip sheath and began to stab at the creature. It was pointless. With a bored huff, the creature disarmed her and raised its large claw in the air. This was likely the end for her.

With great force, the creature brought its claw down onto Nora's power armor. With one hit, she felt the armor around her torso become compromised. The creature then ripped the armor off of her right arm with its teeth. All that remained of her power armor's right arm was the bare metal exoskeleton. Nora was genuinely panicking now – she was out of weapons and out of luck.

The creature began to pound on her chest armor with its claws. Nora watched as her power armor was whittled down to a skeletal form. The creature then placed Nora's head and part of her shoulder into its mouth. Trying to break through the metal with its teeth, Nora could feel the metal exoskeleton of her power armor slowly giving in to the force of the creature's powerful jaws.

It would not be long now before she was reunited with Nate. When she thought about that, she felt warm. Something about that thought gave her great peace. She was ready to die.

As the beast's fangs finally penetrated her power armor, she felt pressure and pain in her right shoulder. She could feel her hot blood gushing from the wound inflicted from the bite. She cried out in pain, but her cry was drowned out by the sound of the second car finally exploding. This time, a large shard of flaming metal went straight through the creature's skull, seriously wounding it. The creature stumbled back a few steps screeching in pain. With all the strength she had left, Nora reached over and grabbed her 10mm pistol. Sitting up, she aimed it at the creature's injured head and began to shoot…

…

Preston had been in some sticky situations before, but this one took the cake. They were being attacked by raiders and now a fucking deathclaw! What next? Preston knew that Nora would need some assistance. He ran through the museum on his way out and picked up discarded weapons, ammo, and medical supplies.

Once in the street he ran towards the sound of minigun fire. When he made it to the end of the street he saw that Nora was in a tough spot. The deathclaw had her pinned and was swiping at her. Preston raised his laser musket to take a shot at the creature. Before he could fire, the old van between him and the deathclaw exploded. Fortunately, he was far enough away to avoid most of the impact. When the dust settled, he saw Nora shooting the deathclaw with her 10mm pistol.

He also began to fire his weapon at the deathclaw. It was severely weakened at this point and began to thrash wildly at the bright bursts of red light from Preston's musket. After a few more shots, the deathclaw finally fell to the ground – weakened, but not dead. With the creature no longer focused on her, Nora was able to get back on her feet again. She stumbled over to the mini gun, picked it up, and began emptying rounds into the deathclaw.

With a final screech, the deathclaw slumped over and became very still. "Is it dead?" Nora asked him weakly, grabbing her injured shoulder. Preston nodded. "Yeah, I think so," he replied. "but I don't wanna hang around to find out. Anyway, you look pretty beat. My medical pack is back at the museum. Come with me and I'll patch you up." Nora exited her destroyed power armor and the pair slowly began to walk back to the museum

…

Nora winced in pain as Preston cleaned and bound her shoulder. The deathclaw managed to pierce her entire right shoulder with its teeth. The bite mark started slightly below her front right collarbone, went around her right shoulder and ended in the middle of her back right shoulder blade. The bite was deep – it would take some time to heal properly. She also had some injuries around her ribcage, but they appeared to be minor. Luckily, Preston knew some first aid.

"That was quite an amazing display," Preston told her as he patched her up. "I'm glad you're on our side. We could use more people like you in the Minutemen." Nora smiled weakly. "I'm glad I could help," she said softly, "I hope you'll all be okay now." Preston finished with the last of the bandages and briefly checked his work. "This should hold for now, but you really need to see a doctor," he said. "Why don't you come with us to Sanctuary while you heal up? It's a place Mama Murphy knows about that isn't to far from here."

Nora's ears perked up at the mention of her old home. Then she remembered that Codsworth had medical programming that could be helpful. "Sure," Nora said as she slowly rose to her feet. "I'm in, Garvey."

They all gathered their belongings and made their way north, up the hill towards Sanctuary. As they walked, Nora found herself beside the old woman. "It's wonderful that you're coming with us to Sanctuary," the old woman said tiredly. "But there's more to your destiny, I've seen it."

Nora was too polite to make faces or roll her eyes, but this old woman seemed a bit senile. "You've seen it?" Nora asked quizzically. The old woman laughed. "I know it sounds crazy kid, but I have the gift of sight. I can see a bit of what was, what is, and what will be. And I know your pain."

Nora scowled just for a moment before regaining her blank expression. How could this woman know anything about her life or her pain? She tried to hide the fact that she was offended. However, the old woman saw through her charade. "I saw you in Sanctuary with your family before the war." Nora's blood turned to ice. How did this woman know? "I also saw get out of that ice box – you're alone now," the woman continued, "You're a woman out of time, out of hope, but all's not lost. I… I can feel your son's energy. He's alive." Nora stopped dead in her tracks – a sense of cautious but hopeful panic setting in. "What do you mean?" Nora asked impatiently. "Where's Shaun?"

The old woman looked at her wearily. "I can't see him but I can feel his energy out there. And I don't need the sight to tell you where you should start looking. Diamond City – the great green jewel of the Commonwealth." Nora had heard about this city from the radio on her pip-boy. And as much as she wanted to hit the road right then, she was in no condition to travel quite yet.

They stopped briefly by the Red Rocket to scavenge any useful supplies. Nora walked into the garage and began grabbing tools and other items. "Hey," Sturges said as he walked up to her, "let me grab that from you. Its heavy and you don't need to put any pressure on that shoulder." Nora didn't argue, knowing that he was right. Sturges grabbed the tools and put them in a pack slung across his shoulders.

"So," Nora asked, "what kind of work were you into before everything went to hell?" Sturges laughed. "I was a mechanic. I used to have a garage in Quincy where I'd work on anything from weapons to power armor. Man, I really liked it there. Felt like I was in my element, ya know?" Nora smiled and nodded.

"And when we left Quincy," Sturges continued, "I had to leave behind my very own Atom Cats custom power armor. Used to run with the Cats. Breaks my heart to leave her with those assholes. They won't take care of her like I did." Sturges shook his head sadly before continuing to scavenge.

He reminded Nora of the prewar car and bike enthusiasts who named their vehicles and loved them like family. "So," Nora said, placing screws and stimpaks into her bag, "It must have been really difficult for you to see that military issue cherry T-45 power armor in pieces…" Sturges laughed. "Yeah, but it saved your life and you saved ours. I think it served its purpose." Nora agreed.

"Do you think that there is any way we can save that armor?" Nora asked him. " I know that it will take a lot of work to repair, but I wouldn't have stood a chance without it." Sturges paused for a moment. Nora could see in his eyes that he was considering whether he could do this or not. And it was clear that he wanted to.

"Let's get set up in Sanctuary first," Sturges said with a small grin. "You get that shoulder looking better, and then we can go back to take a closer look. If we can salvage the frame, building new armor or repairing the existing armor won't be too difficult with the right parts and know-how. Luckily, with me, you've got both."

…

When they finally arrived in Sanctuary, it was early evening. Codsworth sensed them approaching and went to greet them. "Ah, Miss Nora," he began, "Welcome back! And I see you found friends in Concord?" Nora nodded as Codsworth surveyed the Quincy crew.

Then, noticing her bandages, Codsworth became concerned. "Oh dear," he started. "Let me take a look at that injury." Using his optical x-ray lenses, Codsworth scanned her shoulder. "My medical protocols are telling me that you may need antibiotics… and some stitches. Allow me – we don't want that getting infected, now do we?" Codsworth busied himself tending to Nora's bite wounds.

The rest of the settlers made camp in a house in the center of Sanctuary near the workshop. It was the only home with a working wood stove. Preston was in charge of security while Sturges and Jun went out to chop wood for the fire. It was starting to get chilly out and they'd need a warm place to sleep. Mama Murphy and Marcy placed sleeping bags on the floor and started scavenging the houses in the neighborhood for food. They also began to plant the gourd and melon seedlings that Mama Murphy and Marcy found in Concord. Sanctuary needed a lot of improvements before they could call it a home.

...

Later that night, Nora and the Quincy crew settled around the warm wood stove and ate dinner consisting of cram, sugar bombs, and radstag jerky. Without the adrenaline from her fight earlier, Nora was feeling exhausted. As such, she relaxed her use of manners and etiquette and ate her food with her hands.

She laughed thinking about how her parents would react seeing her now. Her father was British, meaning that rules and etiquette were absolutely enforced in their home. And her upper-class, Southern Belle of a mother would have been mortified to see her this way – sitting on the floor, dirty and bloody, wearing mismatched torn clothes, and eating food from a can with her hands. Nora was so tired that the thought of seeing her parents' expressions made her laugh like an idiot.

"Whatcha laughing at?" Preston asked carefully, unsure if Nora's sudden outburst was from exhaustion or illness. "I'm just thinking about how my parents would react seeing me this way," she said as she finished eating the last piece of the radstag jerky on her plate. "They were such sticklers when it came to rules and etiquette. Presentation was everything to them… before the war, that is."

Marcy looked at her like she was crazy. "Great," Marcy said disdainfully, "Now we have two crazies traveling with us… a chem head and a time traveler." As much as Nora wanted to say something spicy as a comeback, she paused first and let more diplomatic words exit her mouth. "I'm not crazy," Nora said calmly. "You see this vault suit?" she asked Marcy. "My family and I used to live here and we were registered to go into the local vault – its right up the hill. Little did we know that it was actually a cryogenic storage. My family and I were put on ice right after the bombs fell. I just thawed out recently."

Marcy looked incredulous. "Really?" she asked with a voice dripping in sarcasm. "Then where's your family? I'd like to see them." Nora scowled. Marcy was really good at getting under people's skin. But she kept her cool. "My husband, Nate, was murdered. And my one year old baby, Shaun, was kidnapped."

The room got uncomfortably quiet, but Nora continued in a monotone voice she had practiced for moments like this when she would have to talk about her family without getting emotional. "The only family I have left is my baby boy and he's out there somewhere. When I find him, I'll be more than happy to introduce you."

Marcy looked sheepish now and walked into the back bedroom to sleep. Her husband, Jun, started crying. "I'm sorry about your family," Jun said wiping tears off of his cheeks. "We just lost our son in Lexington. Marcy isn't handling it well. She usually isn't like this but she is grieving."

Nora could completely understand where they were coming from. "What was your son's name?" she asked gently. Jun paused for a moment, like the words he wanted to say refused to leave the safety of his mouth. "Kyle," he whispered before breaking down into tears. Nora scooted closer to Jun and embraced him.

"I know what you're feeling," Nora whispered to him, her own voice too heavy with grief to speak at regular volume. "For what its worth, you aren't alone. Grief and death come for us all. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Jun nodded and thanked her before joining Marcy in the back room.

It was now just Nora, Preston, and Mama Murphy in the living room. Sturges was there too but he was fast asleep on the couch. Feeling uncomfortable by all of the emotions in the room, Preston grabbed all of their plates and utensils and took them into the kitchen area. Earlier, they found an old bucket and filled it with water – it was their make-shift sink. Preston busied himself doing dishes – he wasn't one to stay idle for long.

Nora and Mama Murphy were sitting next to the wood stove. "How did you know about me – my history?" Nora asked Mama Murphy quietly. Mama smiled. "It's the chems, kid. It gives old Mama Murphy the sight." That wasn't exactly the answer Nora wanted, so she dug deeper. "I understand that, but why me specifically? Out of everything you could possibly have seen, why did you see me?" Nora asked.

Mama thought carefully about how she wanted to answer that question. Truth be told, she would not have seen Nora on her own. It was Hancock's dreams and visions that helped her see Nora in the first place. But how do you explain such a convoluted situation to someone without disclosing what a client told you in confidence? And Hancock, while handsome, friendly, and charming, could be brutal if betrayed. Mama shook her head.

"I don't know, kid." Mama sighed, "The sight shows me things and sometimes it doesn't make sense when I first see it." It was another evasive answer. Nora was a trained lawyer, so she knew when people knew something and didn't want to tell her. Nora was deciding whether to let it go for now or whether to keep pressing for information.

Mama could sense that Nora didn't buy the explanation she gave, so she tried changing the subject. "Do you remember anything about how your husband died or how your kid was taken away?" Mama asked, "If you bring me some chems, I might be able to see something you didn't or find a detail that could help you on your journey."

Nora knew that this was a diversion – a typical evasive tactic that she'd seen witnesses employ on the witness stand in her courtroom trials. But she let it go – she'd need Mama's help so she didn't press her for more information.

"There were three of them." Nora began, playing into Mama's diversion. "I remember two people in white clothes – like doctors or scientists. They opened Nate's pod. He didn't want to give them Shaun and the third person, a guy in leather armor – like a mercenary – shot Nate." Nora paused and furrowed her brow trying to remember any other details. "But my memory is foggy," Nora continued sadly. "I was just coming out of cryogenic sleep… I feel so stupid, but I just cant remember."

When Mama heard Nora say the word "memory," she couldn't help but smile widely. Nora looked confused. "Why are you smiling?" Nora asked, feeling irritated for having divulged something personal to someone who wasn't taking her seriously. "I just told you how my husband was murdered… and you're smiling?"

Mama was feeling a giddy sense of excitement. She was about to play her favorite role – matchmaker. "Memories, kid." Mama said, still grinning like an idiot. "I know just the place for you to go to jog your memories. Goodneighbor. Go talk to Irma at the memory den – tell her that Mama Murphy sent you and she'll hook you up." Mama giggled. What she wouldn't give to be a radroach on the wall when Hancock realized that the woman from his dreams was in his town…

…


	8. Chapter 6: Insurance

You Go To My Head

Chapter 6: Insurance

…

It took roughly two weeks for Nora's bite wound to heal. During that time, she and the Quincy crew made many alterations to Sanctuary. With Sturges' help, they built a water purifier and an electric generator. They had power in the main house and hoped to expand power throughout the entire neighborhood in time. With Preston's help, they fortified the outer borders of the town and set up defenses. They also established guard duty and everyone (except Mama Murphy) had to take turns rotating for defense.

Marcy and Jun tackled the problem of food security. They tilled the land directly behind the main house and planted a variety of crops which were starting to bloom. Soon, they'd have a steady supply of food to eat. Nora helped where she could, but she was there mostly for moral support seeing as she had little use of her arms. Her job consisted of petting and snuggling Dogmeat, a job she adored. He was a good boy.

After about a week of building Sanctuary's defenses, Nora, Codsworth, and Sturges went down to Concord to determine the viability of the power armor. Sturges examined the armor's mechanical structure for several minutes while Codsworth ran diagnostic scans for the electrical parts. Both Sturges and Codsworth said that the frame was viable. But Sturges told her that the individual pieces of armor that fit on the frame were destroyed beyond repair and would be hard to replace. Even without all of the extra armor, the frame provided a certain amount of protection, so they took it back to Sanctuary with them. Sturges seemed happy to have a project to work on.

At the end of the second week, when Nora felt that she was able to use her arms at least 75%, she decided that it was time for her to venture out on her own to find Shaun. It had been nearly four months since she'd woken up and she needed to get a move on. In terms of starting points, Diamond City was definitely on her list of places to check out. And Mama Murphy suggested she jog her memory in Goodneighbor. Perhaps she'd start there so that she could remember what happened with precise detail. But when she mentioned this idea to Preston, he frowned and furrowed his large brows.

"Goodneighbor has a reputation for being the roughest settlement in the Commonwealth. If you go there, please be careful." Preston told her. Then, he sighed and shook his head. "Can I be honest with you for a minute?" he asked her cautiously. She could tell that he was clearly uncomfortable but felt compelled to say whatever he was going to say. Nora nodded. "Sure, Preston. I value honesty."

He looked relieved. "Great," he said uncomfortably. "Listen…. um…" He took off his hat and ran his hands through his very short cropped hair. He was floundering. She'd seen this before in court with witnesses who were about to say something embarrassing or uncomfortable during trial. They'd pause, just like Preston was doing, so that they could choose their words carefully. Sometimes, they just needed a little push to say what was on their minds.

"What did you want to tell me, Preston?" Nora asked gently. "I'm just gonna come out and say it," Preston said quietly. "I hope you aren't offended or weirded out or anything... I mean this with the utmost respect for you and in the least creepy way possible… But… objectively speaking, of course… you… um… there are those in the commonwealth who would find you…" Preston looked at the floor. Nora almost swore that he was blushing. With a deep sigh, he finally said what he wanted to say. "You are an attractive woman, Nora..." he said, still looking at the floor.

It took every bit of Nora's self control not to giggle; not because of his honest words, but because of his mannerisms. She'd never seen Preston Garvey, Mr. Commonwealth Minuteman, squirm like this. Luckily for her, Preston was not making eye contact with her at the time so she had the opportunity to fix her face back to a blank expression before he made eye contact with her again. Preston continued. "And you are on your own. Goodneighbor is probably not the best place for you to go by yourself. It isn't safe and you WILL be a target for some of the less desirable members of that settlement. I'm just worried about you, that's all."

Nora smiled and assured Preston that she could take care of herself. "I know, I know," Preston told her smiling sheepishly, "I just wanted to say I warned you. Diamond City is a much safer place. And it's the largest settlement in the Commonwealth. If anyone can help you, they'd be in Diamond City."

Preston sighed deeply, clearly relieved to have that off of his chest. Nora thanked Preston for his honesty. She knew that he meant well – he always took it upon himself to try to protect everyone and he was honest to a fault. She appreciated that about him. It reminded her a bit of Nate.

At dawn the next morning, Nora left Sanctuary. She decided to leave the power armor frame with Sturges. She initially planned to wear the armor as she traveled, but, upon closer inspection, Sturges found some micro-abrasions in the torso part of the frame and needed time to properly weld it back together. Nora probably should have waited, but she was impatient. She needed to find Shaun.

Despite leaving Sanctuary unaccompanied, she noticed that Dogmeat was following her at a distance. She would turn around to look at him and he would stop wherever he was and crouch. He must have thought that she couldn't see him if he was crouching, even if he was clearly in the middle of the road. She'd turn around and continue to walk and he'd follow. They did this routine several times; it was a fun game they played. Dogmeat clearly wanted to go with her on her adventures and wouldn't take no for an answer. Eventually, Nora gave in and called for him to walk beside her. With a happy bark and a proud trot, Dogmeat joined her.

Nora heard terrible things about Lexington from the Quincy crew, so she wanted to bypass that area completely. She took a road to the west that would circle around Lexington and put her closer to Cambridge. As she was getting close to the outskirts of Lexington, she saw a little diner in the distance. When she arrived, she heard some commotion coming from the diner. "You're not getting your money!" she heard a woman yell. Then, she heard a man's voice. "Don't make me come and shoot up that little trading post of yours!"

Nora should have just minded her own damn business, but she couldn't. She walked up to the man outside of the trading post. He was a younger, moderately attractive man dressed in road leathers. "Whoa there, vault girl," the man said as Nora approached. "This isn't any of your business." Nora usually had good instincts in terms of reading people. This man didn't seem like the violent type – no – his large gold ring and tarnished Rolex indicated that he was a business man. He just wanted his money, not murder. Perhaps she could stop the bloodshed…

"What's going on here?" Nora asked politely, "Maybe I can help." The man looked at her skeptically. "What are you, some kind of hired gun?" he asked. "Or maybe you can talk some sense into Trudy over there." Nora indicated to him that she would try to talk to Trudy. Maybe they could come to some kind of agreement. Nora turned and slowly walked into the trading post.

Trudy was an tough older lady with gray hair and a fiery personality. "I saw you talking with that chem pusher," she said as Nora entered the trading post. "Well, you can tell Wolfgang that he ain't getting his money." Before Nora could ask what the altercation was about, she heard a sniffle coming from the corner of the room. On the floor sat a young, thin teenage boy, probably around 12 or 13 years old, who was clearly going through drug withdrawals. He was shaking and jittery with dark circles under his eyes. His cheeks were pale and gaunt – he looked really sick.

Looking at the boy's dire condition, Nora felt her maternal instincts kick in. She could completely understand why Trudy was upset. If Shaun had come home looking like this, she would have been terrified and furious. Nora crouched next to the young boy. "Hey," she said softly. "Are you okay?" The boy started crying and shook his head no.

From outside the front door, Nora could hear Wolfgang's female bodyguard laugh. "Don't waste your time talking to him," the bodyguard said loudly. "He's so strung out, he probably doesn't know what planet he's on." Nora saw a flash of rage cross the boy's face. He looked at his mother and that rage quickly turned to shame and then defeat. Trudy saw it too and it pissed her off. She began to yell at Wolfgang and the Bodyguard.

While the others were busy yelling at each other, Nora took a closer look at the boy. He was in a bad place. Nora could tell because she had been in a similar place before. When she was a young teenager, she had rebelled against the strict traditionalism to which her parents adhered. Her parents demanded perfection from her at all times – perfect grades, perfect appearance, perfect personality. Perfection was too much pressure to put on a child. And Nora was too wild and independent to continue in the path that her gentle parents laid out for her. She didn't want that life. She just wanted to be herself, free from everyone else's unrealistic expectations. So, naturally, she acted out and made some bad life decisions.

She eventually found herself in a dark place needing help. Fortunately for her, help was readily available in her time. With a little bit of help and a lot of self-determination, she was able to get her life back on track. She went to college and law school, started a family, and had a successful career when the bombs fell. Sometimes, people just need a little help and understanding, but in this post-nuclear time period, both seemed hard to come by.

She wanted to help the boy if she could, but she knew from personal experience that healing and sobriety was a choice that only he could make. As the old saying goes, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink.

Nora sat cross legged on the floor next to the boy and touched his shoulder gently. "Do you want help?" she asked him, "It's entirely your choice – and I'm not here to push anything or tell you what to do. You're a grown man, an adult, and can make your own choices. All I want to know is this: if there was a way for me to help you, would you want my help? Its okay if you don't."

The boy didn't respond or make eye contact with her for a few seconds, but Nora could tell that he was thinking about it. "My da died a few weeks ago," the boy whispered to her, "He was strong and brave. He always protected us… but, since he's been gone… its been really hard… now I'm the man… but I'm not strong… not like him…" The boy's voice broke and he started crying even harder than before. Nora embraced him. He was trying so hard to walk in his father's shoes – to be the big man – but he was just a kid. That responsibility weighed too heavily on him.

When the boy calmed back down, Nora spoke to him again. "My question remains the same as earlier," Nora said gently. "Do you want help?" The boy considered her offer. "I need help," he whispered. "I can't do this alone." Nora smiled knowingly and reached into her pack, pulling out her only vial of addictol. The boy looked surprised – addictol was rare and incredibly expensive. Few had access to it or could afford it.

Trudy had finished yelling at Wolfgang and had stepped back in the diner. She saw Nora about to give her son something that looked suspiciously like a chem. "What are you doing to my boy?" Trudy said angrily stomping towards Nora with a shotgun in hand. She was definitely a mama bear type.

Nora held up the addictol so Trudy could see it. She heard Trudy gasp softly. Nora then gave it to the boy. "That should help, should you choose to use it," Nora said warmly patting him on the shoulder. Nora wasn't going to push it, but she hoped that in his own time and in his own way he would make the right choice.

She stood back up and walked over to where Trudy was standing. "I suppose you want me to pay them chem pushers now," Trudy said crossly. "If you pay them what you owe, then no one gets hurt." Nora told her. Trudy huffed, clearly unhappy with the way things were going. "And this is your diner, Trudy," Nora said. "This is your house. If you don't want them selling chems to your son, tell them not to. And if they disregard you, feel free to show them personally how shot gun ammunition interacts with the human body. I understand that it isn't pleasant…"

For the first time since they met, Nora saw Trudy smile. Her words seemed to have a profound effect. "Okay, fine. You hear that Wolfgang?" she called to the man outside. "You'll get your money. But I'd better not catch you selling one more drop of Jet to my boy. If you do, you'll regret it." Wolfgang agreed. "Fine by me, Trudy. Your son's broke as shit anyhow."

Nora then pulled Trudy aside and spoke with her privately. "I was a mother for a very brief time in my life," Nora began quietly, "and I don't mean to meddle in your personal affairs, but your son – I talked with him. He's just a kid. He isn't ready to fill the shoes your husband left behind. He needs his mother still…" Nora's voice failed her, but Trudy understood what she was trying to say.

"I've been tough on him since Daniel died," Trudy admitted, her usually severe expression softening. "Maybe I've been too tough… maybe this whole thing is partly my fault…" She walked over to where her son was sitting and they began to have a heart-to-heart conversation. With a crisis averted and a healing process beginning, Nora bought a few supplies for the road and continued on her way.

She managed to bypass Lexington without any issues but ran into some trouble in Cambridge. She was walking past Fraternal Post 115 and when she turned the wrong corner. That's when she ran headfirst into something big and solid. Bouncing backwards slightly, she realized that she was standing within melee range of a group of traveling Super Mutants.

Nora quickly backtracked as the Super Mutant closest to her roared and swung his board at her. It missed, but barely. She pulled out her 10mm pistol and shot at the Super Mutant that swung at her. She hit him several times in the torso, wounding him. But she quickly had to focus her attention on the other Super Mutants. She shot one in the leg to slow him down and shot another one in the arm. Nora was unable to focus her attention on all of them at once as they were in close quarters – too close for her comfort.

When one of the Super Mutants shot her in her already injured shoulder, she knew that she needed to put some distance between them. Holding her damaged arm tightly to her body, she took off running past the Super Mutants down the road leading east. They followed her grunting and yelling all the way to the old Greenetech Genetics building. Fortunately for her, there were some gunners there. They saw and shot at her until they saw her pursuers. The Super Mutants were a bigger threat so the gunners engaged them. This allowed Nora to escape.

When she came to the end of the road, she found herself in the shadow of a great ship – which was inconveniently positioned in the side of a building. Nora couldn't tell whether it was exhaustion, blood loss, or adrenaline, but when she saw that ship, she started laughing hysterically. That was not the appropriate place for a sea bound vessel to be located. When she laughed, she felt pain growing in her injured shoulder. She looked down and saw that the Super Mutant's bullet had pierced through and re-opened one of the deeper bite marks. Nora sighed. While she couldn't feel any pain right now due to the adrenaline, she knew that would hurt like a bitch later.

She grabbed an extra shirt out of her pack and wrapped it around her injured shoulder like a sling, applying pressure so the bleeding would slow down. It also meant that she would not have use of her right arm or hand. She'd have to be very careful from here on out as she was now at a significant disadvantage. Her right hand was her dominant hand.

Once her arm was taken care of, she positioned herself between a brick wall and a thick shrub, hiding while she tried to determine her location. She was in Charlestown! Based on her current position, Goodneighbor was probably closer than Diamond City. And with her injured shoulder bleeding profusely, she needed to see a doctor sooner rather than later.

She decided to go to Goodneighbor. She walked out from behind the shrub and saw Dogmeat trotting in her direction carrying something big in his mouth. When he approached her, she saw that it was the foot and lower leg bone of a Super Mutant. Nora laughed way harder than she should have. Dogmeat was a good boy! She regretted laughing though because she could feel the pain in her shoulder growing in intensity each time she moved it.

Nora and Dogmeat crossed the Charlestown bridge into Boston and made their way slowly and carefully to Goodneighbor.

…

In a dimly lit, smoke-filled room, there was a large round table surrounded by several occupied chairs. Atop this table were cards, poker chips, liquor, cigars, chems, and caps – lots of caps. This was one of Daisy's famous poker tournaments. Occasionally, Daisy would call together a group of Goodneighbor's more affluent citizens for an afternoon of frivolity and gambling. Whitechapel Charlie was dealer, bookkeeper, and the final word on rules.

To Charlie's left sat Magnolia, the flower of the Third Rail. She was quick and clever – a formidable opponent in the game of poker. She was the current title holder from the last Tournament, where she beat Bobbi No Nose in the very last hand. It was an exciting match to watch. To Magnolia's left, sat Ham, the bouncer for the Third Rail. He was very good at bluffing and calling other people's bluffs.

To Ham's left sat Daisy, the proprietor of Daisy's Discounts and the host of the match. She was relatively new to Poker, but she enjoyed the intensity of the game. To Daisy's left sat Bobbi No Nose, a masterful liar and con artist. Not many people could pull one over on Bobbi – she could smell bullshit a mile away. And finally, to Bobbi's left and to Charlie's right, sat Hancock, Mayor of Goodneighbor. Poker was one of his favorite games. Sometimes luck was on his side and sometimes it wasn't, but that didn't stop him from loving the game.

Today, they were playing Texas Hold'em. Before the each player received their two private cards, Magnolia, being to the dealer's left, placed the first compulsory bet – the small blind. She placed a single red chip worth 5 caps in the middle of the table. Ham, the person to Magnolia's left, had to double that. He placed one blue chip worth 10 caps in the center of the table – that was the second compulsory bet - the big blind. Then, Charlie dealt each player two cards face down.

Hancock covertly looked at his cards. He had a ten of clubs and a king of diamonds. It wasn't a bad start, but it wasn't great either. Hancock watched as the other players looked at their cards. Daisy, being to Ham's left, opened the bidding by matching Ham's blue chip. Then Bobbi looked at her cards again. "I'm out." Bobbi said tossing her cards in the center of the table. She usually knew when she was beat and was clever enough to get out early, saving herself the trouble of losing precious caps.

Hancock looked at his cards again and tossed a blue chip into the center. Magnolia added another red chip, making her bid match what every one else put in.

Charlie then dealt the flop – three communal cards face up in the center. The flop consisted of a seven of spades, an ace of diamonds, and a ten of hearts. Hancock had one pair now. Magnolia raised the bet by placing a green chip worth 25 caps in the center of the table. Ham, Daisy, and Hancock all matched the bet.

Charlie then dealt the turn, a four of clubs. Magnolia placed two black chips worth 100 caps each in the center of the table with a coy smile. "Are you serious right now?" Ham asked her inquisitively. "Just try me, honey," Magnolia said smiling even wider than before. Ham looked at her for several seconds before folding. "I know that smile," Ham chuckled, "and I'd rather not lose all my caps… again."

Daisy thought about it for a few seconds as well. She looked at Magnolia, then at Hancock, then back at Magnolia. The intensity in the room was undeniable. Daisy sighed deeply before tossing her cards in the middle of the table as well. Now, it was just Magnolia and Hancock.

Hancock looked at Magnolia for any indication that she was bluffing. He knew that he had one pair, but was curious as to what she had. It would all depend on the last card played. He was willing to see it through that far at least. He was a risk-taker; sometimes it paid off and sometimes it didn't. He tossed two black chips in the center. Charlie then dealt the final card – the river. Everything hinged on this one card…

For dramatic effect, Charlie very slowly dealt the final card. It was the King of Hearts! Hancock felt relieved – that gave him two pair, which wasn't a bad hand. Both Hancock and Magnolia tapped their hands on the table – indicating that there wouldn't be anymore betting. Magnolia flipped her cards over first, she had an ace of spades and a queen of clubs – one pair. Hancock smiled and flipped his cards over. He had a king of diamonds and a ten of clubs – two pairs.

"Oh, damnit!" Magnolia said. "I was hoping for a jack so I would have a straight, or a queen for two pair." Upon losing, she quickly drank the rest of her wine and poured herself another glass. "Its all in the luck of the draw, my dear." Charlie said consolingly. They had been playing for several hours now and desperately needed a break.

They decided they'd reconvene in an hour or so for the final round. Hancock walked downstairs into Daisy's shop, out the door, and around the corner into the alleyway between the Old Statehouse and KLEO's shop. Leaning against the Old Statehouse, he grabbed a cigarette from his pack, lit it, and began to smoke.

It was starting to get late now. The sky was mostly clear with a mix of red, pink, and purple hues. Hancock inhaled the dense night air deeply. This was his favorite time of day. Fahrenheit was coming back from the Rexford and saw him standing in the alley next to KLEO's shop. "Can I bum a smoke?" she asked. Hancock gave her the half empty pack he had in his pocket. She took one out, lit it, and began to smoke as well.

"Any news from Marowski?" Hancock asked her boredly. Fahrenheit rolled her eyes. "Just the usual bullshit. He says he has a guy in Diamond City now who can help him circumvent McDonough's taxes, but they haven't finalized a deal yet." Hancock frowned. "So," he said as he flicked the ash from his cigarette, "in other words, there's nothing new to report." Fahrenheit nodded.

"How'd your game go?" Fahrenheit asked, eager to change the subject. "How many caps did you lose?" Hancock laughed and looked at his shrimp of a daughter incredulously. "I'll have you know," he said, feigning annoyance while chuckling, " that I just mopped the floor with them and won us about 600 extra caps!"

Fahrenheit suddenly looked surprised. "Yeah," she said, her eyes widening, "you're really lucky tonight." She pointed behind him towards the front gate. When Hancock turned to see what she was pointing at, he felt his blood chill and his heart leap from its usual perch in his chest and free fall, splattering on the concrete at his feet. After months of waiting, the woman from his visions was finally here.

…

As Nora stumbled towards the neon gates of Goodneighbor, she really hoped that this settlement had a doctor. After her run in with the Super Mutants in Cambridge, where her already injured shoulder was re-injured, she had been attacked by raiders, feral ghouls, and some particularly angry mutant hounds. Her injured right shoulder was now completely immovable, which made combat incredibly difficult. Without Dogmeat's keen senses and amazing fighting abilities, she would not have made it this far.

It was dark when she opened the gate and stepped into the settlement. Her vision was starting to get blurry and she could hear her own heart beating in her ears. With a heavy sigh, she slowly shambled forward into the light of the street lamps.

A bald, leather-clad man saw her enter and approached her. "Hold up there," the man said authoritatively. He swaggered over to where she was standing and slowly looked her up and down. His eyes lingered on her breasts and ass for far longer than Nora felt comfortable with. The man then circled her like a vulture would its prey. Nora watched him cautiously. She could tell that this guy was a predator and that meant trouble for her. She particularly did not like the way he was looking at her. Maybe Preston was right…

"First time in Goodneighbor?" the man asked menacingly. When Nora didn't respond, the man chuckled darkly, licking his lips like a ravenous hyena about to feast. "Can't go walking around without insurance," he whispered in her ear. Then the man lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and blew the smoke into her face. Nora's blood was starting to boil. This piece of shit had a lot of nerve.

Nora's eyes narrowed in anger. "You better back off," she said with as much venom as she could muster in her weakened condition. "Or you're the one who's going to need insurance." The man chuckled, tilted his head to the side, and sized her up.

But her shoulder was bleeding profusely through her vault suit. He could see that she was injured and didn't think that she was a threat in her current condition. "What was that?" he said mockingly, walking towards her again and patting her injured shoulder roughly with his hand. Nora winced in pain. The man saw and laughed. "I couldn't hear over the sound of all that pathetic."

Flicking his cigarette butt into the street, the man grabbed her injured shoulder again and applied pressure to the gunshot wound. The pain was so intense that she couldn't help but cry out through her gritted teeth. "Now…" the man said dangerously, "you hand over everything you got in them pockets..."

When Nora politely told him to get fucked, the man grabbed her and shook her small frame roughly. "You give me what you've got in those pockets," the man said angrily, his spit flying into her face, "or accidents start happenin' to ya. Big. Bloody. Accidents…"

Nora didn't think it was possible to hate someone as much as she hated this pig fucker. Not only did he insult her, belittle her, and injure her, but he also made the mistake of underestimating her. Even with a bum shoulder and severe blood loss, Nora was not going to sit back and take this guy's shit. She wasn't going out like that.

While the man accosted her and got in her face, Nora stealthily reached across her body with her left hand, drew her combat knife, and swiped upwards, making a deep cut to the man's right shoulder and acne-scarred face. Blood began to seep from the wound she inflicted. The man, obviously not expecting her to fight back, stumbled backwards several feet and wiped his bleeding face with the back of his hand.

While the man was preoccupied, Nora managed to move closer to the Old Statehouse. Her vision was blurry and she was having difficulty standing on her own. With her back against the sturdy old brick building, she felt that she was more stable and could better defend herself should that bully come at her again. And he did.

"You'll pay for that you stupid little bitch…" the man roared flipping open his switchblade and walking towards her aggressively. "We'll see how pretty you are after I get done with you!" She took a deep breath and tightened her grip on her combat knife, readying herself for whatever came next.

Before the leather-clad man could get within melee range of Nora, another man called out to them from the dark alley to her left. "Whoa, whoa. Time out," the man from the alley growled with a deep, raspy voice. Her attacker's eyes widened and he immediately stopped his advance. Looking angry, but defeated, the leather-clad man flipped his switchblade closed and returned it to his pants pocket.

Nora turned gratefully to see the man who came to her aid. At first, all she could see from the darkness of the alleyway was the dim red light from the cherry of a cigarette. But she could hear footsteps approaching. Emerging from the shadows of the alleyway in a cloud of dense gray smoke was a man – a ghoul wearing an ivory frilled button down shirt and a blood-red revolutionary war era coat. The tarnished buckles on his bloodstained black leather boots made a loud clanking sound with each step as he approached her.

When she first laid eyes on the ghoul, she felt both relieved and frightened. While the leather-clad man was threatening, she could sense that he was but a docile lamb in comparison to the ghoul who was now standing in front of her. It was like comparing the danger posed by a smelt to that of a great white shark – there was no comparison.

The ghoul positioned himself close to her, placing his body directly between her and her attacker. It was a protective stance, but Nora didn't understand why. Why was this man standing up for her, a complete stranger, especially when he was under no obligation to do so? Nora had yet to experience that kind of chivalry from the Commonwealth. It was an unexpected gesture, but it was deeply appreciated. She noticed that a crowd was starting to form in the street around them, drawn in by the commotion.

From underneath the brim of his worn leather tricorner hat, Nora watched as the ghoul's sharp, obsidian eyes assessed her and the situation she found herself in. His wrinkled face was serious and solemn, like a marbled angel atop a grave. But his eyes betrayed his true emotions - they softened considerably when he looked at her. He gazed upon her as a lover would. Nora's instincts were usually right when she picked up vibes from other people, but she didn't see how her instincts could be right in this case. They'd never even met before… why was he looking at her like that?

His eyes held hers for just a moment before he raised a weathered hand and gently, carefully repositioned her bloodied shoulder's makeshift sling. It must have slid down when her attacker violently shook her.

Despite the ghoul's efforts to be gentle, Nora inhaled sharply at his touch, her eyes tearing up from the tenderness of her wound. For a second – when she gasped – the ghoul's serious expression changed to one of panic and pain. She could tell that it hurt him to hurt her even though any pain he caused was completely accidental. His face then quickly became solemn once more. He was hard to read and was full of mysteries. She could only imagine what was going on in his mind.

Despite the ghoul's initial rough and jagged appearance, she could tell that he was more than the blood and violence his outward persona epitomized. When she looked deeply into his eyes, she could feel a certain warmth and gentleness which she found surprising. Nora could sense a feeling of longing, concern, sadness, and anger – complicated feelings befitting a complicated man.

The ghoul sighed softly, calculating his next move. Withdrawing his hand from her shoulder, their eyes touched again briefly before he turned to deal with her attacker. The crowd fell silent as the ghoul began to speak.

"When someone steps through the gate the first time, they're a guest," the ghoul said quietly and calmly, flicking his cigarette butt onto the street. "You lay off that extortion crap." This ghoul was not someone who needed to be loud or aggressive to be heard. He exemplified the phrase, "speak softly and carry a big stick." Based on the crowd's reverence and her attacker's initial obedience, this ghoul had authority and influence. That kind of power always came at a high price.

But her attacker was as stupid as he was mean. Obviously angry that the ghoul intervened in his affairs, the leather-clad man huffed and stomped his feet, like a bull ready to charge. "What do you care?" he yelled angrily at the ghoul, throwing his hands in the air incredulously. "She ain't one of us." The ghoul remained motionless and expressionless as her attacker spit on the ground in Nora's direction.

"No love for your Mayor, Finn?" the ghoul said remaining dangerously calm. "I said let her go." Her attacker, Finn, huffed again and decided that he wasn't going to roll over and obey. "You're soft, Hancock," he sneered. "You keep letting outsiders walk all over us and one day – there'll be a new mayor." Several people in the crowd began to whisper amongst themselves.

The ghoul smiled widely, his sharp white teeth emerging from behind his thin, tanned lips. "Come on, man," Hancock said with a friendly shrug, strutting over to where Finn was standing. "This is me we're talking about… Come here. Let me tell you something."

When Hancock was standing directly in front of Finn, he placed a hand on Finn's shoulder lovingly. Then, with a burst of speed and rage, Hancock grabbed his knife and stabbed Finn several times in the stomach. Nora eyes widened and she felt her lower jaw hit the pavement in surprise.

Blood gushed out of Finn's mouth and torso as he slumped over onto the ground dead. Hancock chuckled darkly as he wiped his blade clean on Finn's jacket. "Now, why'd you have to go and say that, huh?" he said loudly, gesturing at the bloody puddle that once was Finn. The crowd began to laugh. It was clear that the people of Goodneighbor liked Hancock quite a bit, and frankly, after his show of gutting Finn, Nora was starting to like him too. There was something immensely satisfying about Commonwealth justice.

"Breakin' my heart over here," Hancock said playfully to the crowd, while winking at Nora with a devilish grin. This man – Hancock – was dangerous, charismatic, chivalrous, chaotic, and deadly. That was one hell of a combination. Plus, he protected her when he didn't have to and went as far as killing the man-pig who threatened her. She would have to be very careful around him – she had a predilection for good guys with bad boy vibes.

As the crowd dispersed, Hancock walked back over to where Nora was standing. "Are you alright, sister?" Hancock asked her with a warm smile. "I am now," she said softly. "I'm Nora, by the way. Thanks for taking care of him, Mayor Hancock." Hancock laughed. "No worries," he said confidently, "that asshat had it coming. And there's no need to stand on formality with me. You can just call me Hancock."

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and offered her one. She took it happily. It had been several hours since her last cigarette. Hancock retrieved an old flip lighter from his jacket pocket, flipped it open, and held the flame for her so that she could light her cigarette. Despite his rough and rowdy demeanor, Hancock could be a gentleman as well. Nora inhaled deeply.

"I hope this little incident doesn't taint your view of our peaceful community," Hancock said sincerely as he watched her smoke. "You stay cool, and you'll be part of the neighborhood." Nora liked that idea – having a safe place to belong. Goodneighbor wasn't as bad as she expected it to be, especially with someone like Hancock around. He went out of his way to make her feel safe and accepted.

Nora then felt something big and furry brush her leg. Looking down, she saw that it was Dogmeat. "Where were you ten minutes ago?" Nora playfully scolded him as she pet his face. He sniffed and licked her hand. Then, he looked at Hancock and his tail started wagging excitedly. Dogmeat ran over to where Hancock was standing and jumped up on him. Maintaining his balance, Hancock's eyes widened for a second before he bent down to rustle the happy dog's fur. "That's a cute dog you've got there," he told her as he pet Dogmeat. Nora chuckled weakly. "Yeah, Dogmeat's a mess, but he seems to like you."

When she finished her cigarette, she tried to stand on her own without relying on the wall of the Old Statehouse for support. She was weak and shaky, but she could still walk somewhat. Seeing that she was having difficulty, Hancock offered her his right arm and she took it. "Now," Hancock said softly as their elbows interlocked, "Why don't you come with me? I'll show you where you can get that gnarly shoulder of yours looked at." Nora smiled as she looked up at him. "That would be wonderful."

…


	9. Chapter 7: Bonds, Betrayal, and Bourbon

You Go To My Head

Chapter 7: Bonds, Betrayal, and Bourbon

…

Hancock walked slowly elbow-to-elbow with Nora all the way to the Memory Den. As they entered, Nora gasped softly at the beauty of the antique establishment. She inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scent of real wooden floors. She also loved the dark, burgundy, cabaret style décor and furnishings. If she were ever to open her own bar or club, it would be furnished just like this place.

Much to her delight, Nora also noticed several Silver Shroud posters and memorabilia near the main entrance. Everyone has that one thing that they are super nerdy about and for Nora it was the Silver Shroud. She and Nate used to stay up late every Saturday night waiting for the midnight radio broadcast. They'd spend their Saturday evenings baking sweets and drinking; Nate would always have his glass of bourbon and Nora her wine. Around a quarter to midnight, they would take their baked treats and have dessert in bed as they listened to the Silver Shroud's next great adventure. It was a tradition in their household – before the bombs fell, before Nate was murdered. Nora smiled sadly as she remembered those happier, simpler times.

Just thinking about the little things they used to do together made Nora really homesick and nostalgic for a time, place, and person she knew no longer existed. It had been months since Nate had died, but it was every bit as painful for her now as it had been in the Vault. He was her strength and her rock. He was such a positive influence on her life. Nate was the only person she had ever met who truly loved and accepted her as she was despite her many insecurities and imperfections. Losing him was unbearable... Feeling tears threatening to betray her otherwise calm and happy expression, Nora quickly distracted herself.

"Hey, Doc," Hancock called to a woman in a white lab coat, "We need your medical talents over here…" The Doctor rose from her chair in the corner of the room and walked over to meet them. Her brown eyes scanned Nora quickly. When she saw Nora's unnaturally pale complexion and extensive wounds, she made a loud hissing sound through her teeth.

"I'll need to get a look at that shoulder… now," the Doctor told Nora urgently as she began walking towards the stairwell. "Follow me to the lab, please," she said gesturing for Nora to come along. Hancock and Nora watched as the Doctor then descended the staircase. Nora initially made no attempts to move. Noticing her hesitation, Hancock slowly released her elbow. "You'd better hurry," Hancock said quietly, a small smile playing on the corners of his mouth. In truth, he really didn't want her to go but he knew that she had to. Nora turned towards him and they locked eyes again.

Despite her warm and friendly expression in that moment, when he looked into her eyes he could sense a deep sadness. His mother once told him that the eyes are the windows of the soul. Perhaps she was right. While words lie and smiles deceive, only the eyes can reveal the secrets of the heart. He wondered what secrets her emerald eyes could tell him if he looked deep enough…

Realizing that they had held eye contact for longer than was societally acceptable for new acquaintances, Nora quickly turned away, her uninjured hand sweeping her long brown hair behind her ears. "Yeah," she said bashfully, a small blush appearing on her cheeks. "I should, um, probably get down there." Hancock watched with bated breath as Nora slowly walked over to the staircase. He wanted to follow her, but he thought that it might appear too forward.

She paused at the doorway, hesitated, and turned to look at him once more. He could feel his heart beginning to thump loudly in his chest. "Hey, Hancock," Nora said softly, the warmth of her words radiating across the room to where he was still standing, "Thank you… for everything." With one last glance at him over her shoulder, she smiled and walked down to Doctor Amari's lab.

When she was gone, Hancock closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to steady himself. Seeing her in his visions was one thing, but seeing her in real life – touching her soft skin – hearing her voice say his name – it was something completely different. He was feeling a multitude of strong, conflicting emotions battling in his chest; meeting her in person was both exciting and terrifying. He needed to think carefully about his next move.

His eyes snapped open when he heard a soft giggle coming from the corner of the room adjacent to the staircase. He sighed deeply when he saw Irma sauntering over towards him. From her expression, Hancock knew that she had been watching the entire exchange. Her green eyes were twinkling mischievously and her pouty red lips were curled into a pretty smirk. "Now who is she?" Irma asked him in a slow, sultry, almost sing-songy voice.

Hancock rolled his eyes at her. "She's a newcomer who needed medical treatment." Irma's eyes widened slightly with amusement. "I figured that, honey, but who is she to you?" Irma asked, poking at his chest playfully. When he didn't immediately respond, Irma leaned in to whisper something in his ear. "Because I haven't seen you look at someone like that in … well… ever."

Hancock sighed deeply. "Fuck. Was it that obvious?" he whispered back to her, touching the back of his head with his hand and smiling nervously. She leaned back and giggled. "To me, yes," Irma said quietly with that shit-eating grin still on her face. He knew Irma well enough to know that she was just messing with him and that she would never actually say anything. But he couldn't help but feel anxious. If it was that obvious to Irma, then maybe it was that obvious to Nora too…

Sensing his discomfort, Irma touched his shoulder softly. "I could tell that you fancied her, but that's because I've known you a very long time," she told him. "I don't think your lady friend had any idea – you've got one hell of a poker face. Say, speaking of poker, don't you have a game to win?" Hancock chuckled. "Yeah, thanks for reminding me," he said. "I should probably get going." As he turned to leave, he could still hear Irma giggling softly. "Don't worry about her, dear," Irma called to him, "We'll make sure she is taken care of." With that, Hancock nodded and left the Memory Den.

…

After winning quite a bit of caps earlier in the night and finally meeting the woman from his visions, Hancock figured that his luck was probably spent. He went back to Daisy's, took one look at his cards, and immediately folded. Despite having a decent hand, he knew that pushing his luck any further that night would likely end in ruin. Magnolia, unsurprisingly, won the title again with a straight. Hancock would have been more interested in the final round of poker, but his mind was preoccupied.

When he eventually made it back to his office, Fahrenheit was sitting on the red sofa waiting for him. He could tell just by looking at her that something was wrong. "I'm glad you're here," Hancock said as he grabbed a bottle of vodka and a Salisbury steak from the back counter. "Yeah, me too," Fahrenheit said darkly, "We need to talk. Now." As Hancock got comfortable on the dotted couch, Fahrenheit closed the double doors to the office. The war room was officially in session. "While you were schmoozing with the vault girl and playing poker at Daisy's," Fahrenheit began irritably, "I've been busy putting out fires and doing damage control. I've got several updates for you and none of them are good. So get comfortable – this is gonna take awhile." Hancock groaned as he leaned back into the dotted couch. Mayoral duties were such a drag.

"First," Fahrenheit said curtly ignoring his complaints, "we need to talk about Finn." Hancock's eyes narrowed angrily. "He earned what he got," he growled. "The way he talked to me – he was completely out of line and everyone who was there knows it. He gave me no choice but to kill him – what was he thinking challenging me like that – and in public for fuck's sake…" Fahrenheit sighed. "Yes, I know that and I've had our guys spread that story around. They're telling everyone that Finn disrespected you and challenged you publicly and you put his sorry ass down. Finn obviously had a death wish and you were only too happy to oblige." Hancock took a swig from the vodka bottle. "Good," he said smiling.

"However, killing Finn swiftly and publicly was both a good and bad thing." Fahrenheit told him, pulling her notebook out of her pocketed chest piece. "After you put Finn down, an informant of ours overheard a bunch of guys talking in the alley near Bobbi's place. Apparently, Finn was the ring leader of a group that wants you out of Goodneighbor. They were planning, and are still planning, to overthrow you." Hancock huffed angrily. Before the incident with Nora, he had considered Finn to be a brother. They were friends… and all this time Finn was planning to oust him? Hancock wanted to go back outside and stab his corpse a few more times.

"Its all about money and power. They want to take over our chem trade," he told her disdainfully. "They wanna waltz in here and take the empire we've spent so much time and energy trying to build..."

"But that's not the worst part of it," Fahrenheit continued cautiously. "I've received intel that this particular opposition group is well-organized. They've been recruiting members and stockpiling weapons for quite some time. Our informant says that they've got about thirty guys on payroll, each of whom have decent armor and sophisticated weapons." Hancock could feel his blood begin to simmer. How could Finn be a part of this? He thought that they were friends…

Fahrenheit paused and looked at her father intently. He was quiet and brooding, clearly upset by what she told him about Finn. It was betrayal and her father had an extensive history of not handling betrayal well. She looked at him closely checking his temperature to see if he could handle more bad news. She had plenty of it and was concerned about whether he could take it and remain calm. This situation needed to be handled delicately. And according to her most recent intel, Finn's betrayal ran deep.

"Maybe we should take a break…" Fahrenheit suggested, feeling that her father was getting aggravated too quickly. Hancock shook his head. "No, let's just get this over with. Tell me whatcha got – I can handle it." Fahrenheit sighed. She wasn't so sure that he was ready for this.

"In a related matter, Jack and Eddie are dead," she told him. Hancock sighed heavily and held his face in his hands. Jack and Eddie were good, strong, loyal guys… "How did they die?" he asked her somberly. "They were murdered," she told him, "Some of our guys found their bodies near the river just this past week. I just found out about it." Hancock sat up on the couch. "Who killed them?" he asked, his voice dangerously calm. "Was it those chem traders we sent them to investigate a few weeks ago?"

Fahrenheit closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "We have reason to believe that they were murdered by the opposition group that Finn was building." She paused for a moment as her father took that information in. She had plenty more to tell him. "We found about two dozen other bodies near where Jack and Eddie were located. It looks like they put up one hell of a fight. All of the other bodies apparently belonged to the chem-traders we sent them to talk to. They were all wearing that logo – the black skull with a red handprint."

"How are the chem-traders related to Finn's opposition group?" Hancock asked quietly. He already knew where this was going but he didn't want to believe it. He needed to hear Fahrenheit say it aloud. "They're the same group," she told him quietly. "The informant said that the guys in the alley were wearing that same black skull logo on their clothes." Hancock paused, putting it all together. "So, they steal our chems, hustle our territory, kill our guys, and bankroll their political uprising to overthrow us with caps that are rightfully ours?" Fahrenheit nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."

Hancock took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. He chugged the last bit of vodka from the bottle before throwing it swiftly and roughly across the room. It hit the wall and shattered loudly. He could feel his blood turning to lava in his veins – he wanted this group and anyone associated with it dead.

"Where are these radroaches holed up at?" he asked her quickly, standing and picking up his minigun, Justice. He placed Justice on the table between them with a loud clunk. Fahrenheit didn't answer immediately. This was exactly the reaction that she had been trying to avoid. Sensing her hesitation, Hancock looked at his daughter with narrowing eyes. "Where are they?" he asked again dangerously. "You should sit down," she said softly. "I know that you're not gonna like this answer."

With a heavy sigh, Hancock sat back down on the couch fuming. Fahrenheit paused for a few seconds before telling him. "They're all here in town," Fahrenheit said slowly, "in the old warehouses…" Hancock slammed his fists on the table. "They're smart to hide there," Hancock said angrily, "They're hiding in the one place they know I can't touch them. Those bastards."

Fahrenheit put out her cigarette. "Yeah, they know that you can't make any overt moves against them if they're within city limits," she explained. "If you personally take them out while they're in Goodneighbor, it'll look like you're a tyrant who stifles opposition. And their guys will tell everyone that you're no different than any other mayor, that you're just another rebranding of Vic, and then they'll have legitimate grounds to oust you, likely with the public's support."

Hancock interrupted her. "Don't say that." he snarled, pointing a weathered finger in her direction. "I'm nothing like Vic." Fahrenheit sighed. "I know that," she told him gently. "But you know that's exactly what the survivors and sympathizers of the opposition group would say if you, or anyone associated with you, went into the warehouses and iced them."

Hancock growled angrily. As mad as he was about this whole situation, he knew that Fahrenheit was right. But his blood was boiling wildly in his veins and he needed to calm down. He needed to let reason and logic prevail over passion if he wanted to deal with these traitors in a way that would allow him to keep his position as mayor. He had worked far too hard to let this news uproot him.

"I think we should take a break now," Hancock said quietly. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and walked swiftly out onto the balcony. Fahrenheit waited for a few minutes before following him out. She sighed heavily. That was the first of many pieces of bad news that she would have to tell him. It was going to be a long night.

…

When Nora walked downstairs into the lab, Doctor Amari helped her out of her vault suit. It was damaged, bloodstained, and badly needed mending. Doctor Amari then showed Nora to a small bathroom and told her to quickly bathe the uninjured parts of her body. "Don't get that shoulder wet!" she warned sharply as Nora stepped into the makeshift shower.

Once her body was clean, Doctor Amari gave her a fresh set of clothes – a black tank top and a comfortable pair of gray sweatpants. Then, Nora sat down in a dentist's chair as Doctor Amari began to assess her wounds. "Deathclaw?" she asked pointing at Nora's mostly healed bite mark. Nora nodded and began to tell Doctor Amari the crazy events of the past few weeks beginning with her rescue of the settlers in Concord.

"You really should take better care of yourself in the future," Doctor Amari gently scolded as she finished patching up Nora's shoulder. Pushing her black rimmed glasses back up onto the bridge of her long nose, Doctor Amari stepped back to observe her handiwork. "You will experience soreness and pain in your shoulder for the next week," she said matter-of-factly, placing Nora's right arm into a proper sling and adjusting it appropriately.

"And it is my professional medical opinion," Doctor Amari continued, "that you should stay put and take it easy until you are completely healed. That means no more deathclaws, super mutants, raiders, gunners, mutant hounds, building-jumping, explosives, miniguns, gun fights, knife fights, grappling, or the like –" Doctor Amari took a deep breath "for at least a week." Nora snickered. It would have been ridiculous for a doctor from her time to say something like that to a patient. As silly as it was, she immediately regretted laughing and winced as the pain in her shoulder was intensified by her movements.

Seeing her discomfort, Doctor Amari walked over to the storage closet near the door of the surgery room. She retrieved an unopened handle of bourbon, a white sticky label, and a black marker. Nora watched with curious anticipation as Doctor Amari wrote 'Doctor's Orders' in messy script on the white sticky label. She stuck the label onto the side of the bourbon bottle with a smack. "Here, take this." Doctor Amari said, her eyes twinkling knowingly behind her dark glasses. "Consider it your prescription. Bourbon is a sedative, pain killer, and sleep aid. Take one shot as needed to regulate your symptoms. And try not to overdo it. You don't want to injure this shoulder again while its trying to heal."

Nora chuckled. This was, without a doubt, the best doctor visit she'd ever had. All of her old doctors told her to lay off the alcohol and cigarettes, but this doctor was prescribing it. Oh, how the world had changed! Helping Nora to her feet, Doctor Amari led her back up the stairs and into the lobby of the Memory Den.

"Next door," Doctor Amari told her, "is the Hotel Rexford. That is where you can rent a room for the night. Come back to see me tomorrow evening after hours and I will change your bandages." Nora thanked Doctor Amari for her help and walked out of the Memory Den.

Once she was outside, she sat on the park bench next to the Third Rail. She needed another cigarette before turning in for the evening. As she sat quietly on the bench lighting her cigarette, she heard a faint, but familiar voice coming from the second floor balcony of the Old Statehouse. Two voices were conversing in hushed tones, but Nora could make out what they were saying due to her close proximity and keen hearing.

"I just can't believe Finn would betray me like that," she heard Hancock say. "He was my friend…" There was a brief pause. "I know, I couldn't believe it either," a woman's voice replied, "but the facts are undeniable. He was organizing a group to overthrow you. And your stunt tonight – protecting an outsider and making a public show of killing Finn – did nothing but make these tensions worse. This could cause some serious problems for us in terms of re-election if they manage to paint Finn's death as an undemocratic silencing of opposing viewpoints by a tyrannical, power-hungry mayor..."

Nora felt a deep pang of guilt. She felt responsible for whatever mess Hancock was now having to deal with. She didn't realize just how high a price he paid to protect her... "I don't care," Hancock told the woman briskly, "he challenged me at his own peril. And protecting Nora was the right thing to do. He was bullying her while she was badly injured and unable to fight him on fair terms. I won't stand for that kind of shit in my town. I'd do it again in a heartbeat." Upon hearing his words, Nora felt her heart do a series of somersaults in her chest.

Hancock was protecting her… again. She didn't know what she had done to earn his protection or his loyalty, but she didn't feel deserving of it. She thought it was rare to find someone who would defend her name especially in her absence, regardless of the personal consequences. She felt a warmth wash over her as she thought about it. It felt like stepping close to a blazing fire after being out in the cold winter air for too long. He had a lot to lose by standing up for her. It would have been more beneficial for him to simply let Finn harass and maim her, but he chose to protect her anyway. He truly was one of a kind.

"I know," the woman responded, "but doing the right thing has its price. Now all of Finn's sympathizers here in town are feeling enraged by their leader's death. You made him a martyr in their eyes. They're probably plotting revenge as we speak." There was another brief pause. "So what," Hancock growled, "Let them come. I'll put them down too. Then, they can join their beloved asshat of a leader in hell or whatever bad place betrayers go when they die."

"It may be wiser to let someone unaffiliated with us do the killing this time," the woman replied. "It'll be too noticeable if we send in our guys. I'll have Charlie keep a lookout and see who bites…" Nora heard Hancock sigh heavily. "You know, as much as I love the people here, some days I really hate this job," he said solemnly. "But if you leave, someone unworthy of this title, this position, and this power would take your place," the woman told him. "Then all the people that you say you love and care about would be at their mercy." There was a brief pause. "I know," Hancock said wearily. "That's why I'm stuck here, for better or for worse… I just need a break."

"You can take a break after we deal with the major threats to Goodneighbor," the woman said sternly. "We need to deal with this opposition group, the super mutants holed up right outside of town, that rat bastard Sinjin and his ilk, those gunners –" Nora heard Hancock sigh again. "Yeah, yeah. I know," he said. "But when the major threats are taken care of, I'm gonna take a walk. Clear my head. And you, my little ladybug, will be in charge. You've me shown time and time again that you're ready for this job." She heard Hancock chuckle. "I'm so fucking proud of you and the badass you've become… Come here and give your tired old dad a hug."

A few moments later, Nora heard a door open and shut on the second floor. Then silence. Nora thought about what she had just heard. Betrayal, opposition, exhaustion; Hancock had a hard job and a difficult road ahead of him. She wanted to help, to repay him for his kindness earlier, but she didn't want to make things worse. She'd have to think carefully about how she wanted to get involved.

When Nora walked into the Hotel Rexford, she was bombarded by an older man in a blue jacket. "Hey, lady" the man said quickly and happily, "you're new! Oh boy! Are you lookin' for some chems? I've got sooo many flavors – there's gotta be something here for you!" Nora giggled as he showed her a dirty pink duffle bag full of chems. "I'll take a look," she said with a grin. The eccentric man couldn't have been happier to hear that. "Awesome," he said taking her uninjured hand and shaking it wildly, "I'm Fred Allen, by the way. Everything is homebrewed and at a good price!"

Nora sifted through the pink duffle bag for a few moments. "I have a hard time sleeping," Nora told him. "Do you have anything for that?" Fred started digging around in the duffle bag enthusiastically. "Here it is!" he said, brandishing a green bottle with an orange cap. "Daytripper! One of these little buggers and you'll be super chill, like ice if you know what I mean." He started giggling in a high pitched voice. "I'll take that, then," Nora said smiling, handing him a bag of caps.

Then, Nora walked up to the receptionist's desk and purchased a room for the night. "Top floor, long hallway, last door on the right," the old woman at the desk told her. When Nora made it to her room, she took one of the Daytripper pills and went straight to bed. And for the first time since the bombs fell, Nora slept soundly.

…


	10. Chapter 8: Shadows and Subterfuge

You Go To My Head

Chapter 8: Shadows and Subterfuge

…

Two members of the Neighborhood Watch stood quietly at the doors of Hancock's office. It was starting to get late and the office's outer doors had been shut for quite some time. With no one to relieve them of their shift, they had no choice but to hang around. Rules are rules.

Jim, a ghoul in a tan suit, turned towards his colleague and sighed heavily. "How much longer do ya think they'll be, Bill?" Jim whispered looking anxiously at his pocket watch, "We shoulda been off an hour ago. I got shit to do tonight."

Bill ran his hands through his sandy blonde hair. "I don't know, Jim," Bill shrugged. "Today hasn't been a normal day. You heard about what Hancock did to Finn earlier, right?"

Jim shook his head as he returned his pocket watch to his tan coat. "Can you believe that shit?" Jim whispered angrily. Jim thought highly of Finn. He was a good fighter and a strong leader. He didn't think Finn deserved to die but refrained from expressing that opinion out loud. He was a member of the Watch, Hancock's city guard, so he couldn't openly contradict or speak poorly of Hancock – at least while he was on the job.

"It's crazy," Bill sighed heavily, "Finn shoulda known better than to challenge Hancock openly like that… What was he thinking?"

"I know," Jim whispered, "but he's been pulling that extortion routine for weeks now and Hancock's never stopped him before… Why was today different?"

"That's true," Bill replied, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips, "But when's the last time a saucy dame like that walked into Goodneighbor? Hell, I'd probably off Finn too for a piece of that ass. Do you think Vault Tec still delivers?" Jim snorted loudly causing both men to break out into muffled laughter.

The doors of Hancock's office suddenly swung open. Both men quickly regained their composure and silently prayed that their conversation had not been overheard. Fahrenheit walked slowly into the hallway. Her sharp brown eyes examined them carefully. Jim could feel himself begin to sweat… Had she heard what was said? He really hoped she didn't. Hancock had already killed one long-time resident of Goodneighbor today. Jim didn't want to be the second…

"It's late," Fahrenheit said calmly. She pulled a cigarette out of her pack and lit it. The lighter's small flame briefly illuminated the dark hallway and their nervous faces. "I'll make sure you two get paid overtime for the extra hour tonight," she told them. Both men thanked her and started to leave.

"Before you go," she continued, causing both men to stop in their tracks, "I've got a special job for both of you."

"Special job?" Bill asked cautiously running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah," Fahrenheit said nonchalantly. "Your orders are to watch the new girl." Jim wrinkled his hairless eyebrows. "What new girl?" he asked feigning ignorance, "And why are we watching her?"

Fahrenheit took a long drag from her cigarette. "The new girl," Fahrenheit said softly, "The one with the vault suit and the pip-boy. The one who stood up to Finn earlier. Starting to ring a bell?" Both men nodded. "Good," she said, "Watch her. Keep track of where she's going and what she's doing. I want to know who she's talking to and why. Give me details as soon as you get them."

"Okay," Bill said slowly, "We're supposed to watch her. But Vault girl seems to be good at getting herself into trouble. What should we do if she's in danger?" Fahrenheit took another long drag from her cigarette. Her eyes remained uncaring and her face blank. "Keep her safe. She's… special." Jim and Bill exchanged confused glances.

"You can go now." Fahrenheit said as she dropped her cigarette butt on the floor and crushed it abruptly with her sole of her black boot. Both men, sensing her aggression, quickly exited the building.

When he got outside, Jim didn't immediately go home. He had other plans for that night. He quickly waved at his drifter friends who were hanging out in front of Daisy's shop, but he didn't linger there. He started walking towards the Third Rail, where he usually went after work for several drinks. But instead of stopping by the bar, he dipped into an alley way and approached a large metal door. Jim looked over his shoulder, checking to make sure that he hadn't been followed by anyone before knocking a rhythmic beat onto the metal door.

He heard a familiar clinking sound as the metal door was unlocked. Bobbi No-Nose opened the door slowly. "You're late," Bobbi hissed at him. She looked really peeved. "I got held up at work," Jim whispered with an apologetic shrug. Bobbi rolled her dark eyes dramatically. "Get in here," she said quietly as she grabbed his arm and yanked him inside.

She quickly locked the door and gestured for Jim to follow her. They walked downstairs and entered a medium-sized room. The usual crew was already there and had obviously been waiting for quite some time. "What gives, Jim?" a gruff man in road leathers said angrily, "Been dicking around with your boyfriend or something?" Jim felt his blood start to boil, but before he could retort, Bobbi hushed them. "He's been busy with work," Bobbi said, "But no worries, let's get started. Any news on my red-headed friend in Diamond City?"

The man in road leathers crossed his arms. "Yeah," he said with annoyance, "Your friend, Mel, is a real troublemaker. He's spent more time in the pen this month than out of it." Bobbi's lips curled into a small smile. "What'd he do this time?" she asked with a soft chuckle. "He was caught stealing electronics in broad daylight from Diamond City Surplus," the man in road leathers told them. "Myrna saw him do it and I had no choice but to book him. Myrna would raise hell to McDonough if I just let him go. I'd never hear the end of it and I'm not about to lose my job because of that idiot…"

"No," Bobbi interjected, "I need you to keep your job with Diamond City Security. I need reliable eyes and ears there. You did the right thing." Bobbi handed the man in leather a bag of caps. Bobbi then turned her attention to a woman wearing a torn red letter jacket and ripped jeans. "What about you," Bobbi asked her. "Any interesting news from Bunker Hill?" The woman shook her head no. "Things have been pretty quiet since Quincy," the woman told her, "Quincy was probably half of the trade to come through the Hill. A lot of caravanners are upset by the lack of goods currently being moved, but most traders refuse to venture any further South than necessary. It's cut off our entire trade south of the city. The Minutemen cost us a lot of caps by turning on Quincy."

Bobbi shook her head. "I can imagine they're upset," Bobbi said softly, "But tell 'em that I've got a plan that's going to make us all a lot of caps. I just need a little more time to get it together. What I'm doing is dangerous and it has to be done just right or the consequences could be catastrophic…"

Bobbi handed the woman a bag of caps and turned her attention to Jim. "Anything new at the Watch?" Bobbi asked. "Yeah," Jim said, "Well, you all probably heard about what happened to Finn earlier tonight." The room got uncomfortably quiet. Finn was their friend and ally. "I've got a theory," Jim continued. "Finn's been pulling that extortion routine for weeks now and Hancock has never intervened – until today."

Several people in the room began to whisper and murmur. "There's only one explanation I can think of to explain Hancock's irrational behavior," Jim said. "Hancock must have a thing for that Vault girl."

Bobbi looked at him incredulously and snorted. "How do you figure that?" Bobbi asked. "Other than Hancock publicly shanking Finn for talking mean to her?" Jim laughed, "I mean, that says a lot right there… When was the last time Hancock publicly executed a resident in the middle of town? Other than Vic of course…" Several people in the room shook their heads thoughtfully, but Bobbi didn't look convinced.

"While that kind of behavior is admittedly unusual for Hancock," Bobbi said, "he has political motivations for putting Finn down. Hancock must have found out about Finn's involvement in our organization and was looking for any reason to get rid of him. I'm not convinced that the Vault girl had anything to do with it."

"Well, if Vault girl wasn't the reason he iced Finn, then why did Fahrenheit tell me not even ten minutes ago to watch out for her?" Jim asked. Bobbi raised a hairless eyebrow. "Watch out for her?" she asked, "Now that's interesting… What do you mean by that?"

Jim sighed. "Fahrenheit's exact words was 'watch the Vault girl' and if she gets into trouble 'keep her safe.' Then, I asked why and Fahrenheit just said 'she's special.'" Bobbi lit a cigarette as she took in this interesting news. "Now I'm just putting two and two together," Jim continued, "Something is going on there. I mean, Hancock killed Finn in the middle of the street for harassing this broad. Then I'm given orders to watch her and keep her safe. When has anyone ever been protected by the Watch? Particularly a newcomer? That kinda protective order comes from high up, from Hancock himself. I just can't understand why Hancock would give that order if he wasn't interested in the girl for personal reasons."

Bobbi still didn't seem convinced. "Hancock knows that he's losing popularity right now among many residents in Goodneighbor. Finn really took the lead in the last super mutant attack. He really showed initiative and everyone saw it. We are all here because we believe that its time for new leadership in Goodneighbor, but we know that Hancock would never willingly or peacefully step down."

"So you're saying Hancock's reason for killing Finn was solely political?" a woman in rags asked quietly. Bobbi shook her head. "After him offing Finn, there's no way Hancock is in the dark about our opposition," Bobbi told her, "He may not know exactly who is involved or what our goals are but there's no way he's oblivious. That's why I told our guys to stay in city limits. He can't ice us here without showing his true tyrant colors…"

There was a brief pause. "What if Hancock didn't know about the opposition at all?" the woman in rags asked, "What if he really killed Finn to protect the Vault girl?" The room was quiet as everyone considered that option. The woman in rags poked the drifter with bright red hair next to her. "Tell them what you told me on the way here," the woman in rags said.

The drifter with bright red hair spoke up. "Hancock went to Quincy not too long ago with Fahrenheit," the drifter said. "I have – or, well, had – kin in Quincy before the Minutemen's betrayal. They told me that a red haired woman and a ghoul went to go see old Mama Murphy. They live right below her. Apparently the red head and the ghoul stayed the night that night."

"Isn't Mama Murphy a seer?" the man in road leathers asked. "I heard she can use chems to see into the future…" The raider with a braided Mohawk standing next to him shook his head. "Yeah," the raider said, "Jared from Corvega has been trying to capture that old bat for a while now. He wants her to teach him how to use the sight…"

"Yeah," the drifter continued, "She's a known psychic and a good one too. My kin who live below her said they could hear them talking upstairs. Something about a Vault and an egg and a sanctuary… They could only hear bits and pieces, but they definitely heard something about a vault. Maybe Vault girl is connected."

Bobbi poured herself some wine and began to think. "Well," Bobbi mused, "that changes things…" The woman in the letter jacket spoke up. "Why would Hancock go see Mama Murphy in the first place? He doesn't strike me as the type that believes in superstition."

"Maybe he knows he's losing power and is desperate for a way to keep control," said a female ghoul wearing a worn fedora and suspenders. "But how does that have anything to do with Finn or the Vault girl?" Jim asked. "Why would Hancock risk losing more popularity to protect a newcomer? It seems like a bad move politically speaking."

"Well, the Vault girl is beautiful," the woman in rags told them, "Perhaps Hancock's motivations are more… basic." Bobbi raised a hairless eyebrow. "Really? Explain." Bobbi said. "The Vault girl has big green eyes, long dark hair, and the smoothest skin I've ever seen," the woman in rags said softly, "Like one of them old world porcelain dolls. I can see how any man, especially someone like Hancock, who values the look of power and success, would want that pretty little bird on his arm."

Bobbi inhaled a puff from her cigarette as her mind began formulating ideas. "Do you think that Hancock really likes this girl or is he just wanting something short term?" Bobbi asked.

There was a brief period of silence as they considered the question. "I can't think of the last time Hancock really liked someone for more than just one night," Jim said. "And I can't remember the last time he used the power of his office to extend his personal protection to anyone," the man in leather chimed in, "Why would he go to such lengths to protect someone he wasn't… invested in?"

"That's a good point," Bobbi said softly, "There's a lot we don't know right now and speculation isn't helpful. We need facts." Jim agreed. "Fahrenheit told me to watch her – keep track of where she goes, who she talks to, etcetera. I'll tell you what I learn." Bobbi nodded as she handed him a bag of caps. "That would be really helpful," Bobbi said, "But I want everyone to help find information about this Vault girl. I want to know everything about her – her likes and dislikes, her schedule, her goals, her values – what makes her tick. I'll pay extra if anyone can dig up stuff about her past. Until we know how she fits into this puzzle, we need to keep her close…"

The woman in the letter jacket spoke up. "Why don't you invite her to work for you?" she asked Bobbi, "She'll probably be receptive to anyone who is nice to her after her scuffle with Finn." Jim nodded. "If she wants to stay in Goodneighbor, she'll need to join a crew. It should be ours. We don't know why she's special yet, but it will be good to have her on our side." The woman in a letter jacket nodded. "Yeah," the woman said, "and everyone needs caps. Don't you need a few more people to dig?" Bobbi shook her head yes. "Yeah, now that I have the map I need, things should be a bit easier."

Some of the people in the room looked confused. Bobbi, noticing their confusion, decided to reveal part of her plan to them. "I needed a map of Boston's sewers for my big dig. Jazz helped me obtain that important piece…" Bobbi said motioning towards the other raider in the room. Jazz smiled a toothy smile. "We're getting close to our happy ending," Bobbi said, "We just gotta keep moving, stay focused, and keep our heads down. We'll get ours soon enough."

Bobbi handed both raiders and the woman in rags a bag of caps each and concluded the meeting. Everyone left the room and went their separate ways. When everyone was gone, Bobbi took another sip from her wine as she considered the new information she'd just received. The Vault girl could prove useful in her revenge against Hancock. If he really did like her, having the Vault girl join her crew and help with the big dig would cause him even more pain.

Bobbi smiled at that thought. Hancock was a bully to anyone who tried to get any power in Goodneighbor. Despite his revolutionary war getup and his speeches about democracy and fair play, Bobbi thought he was a tyrant who needed to be removed. Democratic leaders don't silence opposing voices, they listen to them and give them a seat at the table. But the only seats at the table in Hancock's Goodneighbor were for himself and his meddlesome progeny. Bobbi hoped to change that.

There were many caps that could be made if Goodneighbor were under different leadership. The Hotel Rexford used to be a serious player in the Commonwealth's chem trade, but now it was nothing more than a shack with neon lights. Bobbi, and many others in Goodneighbor, wanted a return to the old Goodneighbor, where caps flowed in like debris in the river; in abundance.

Bobbi had initially supported Finn's bid for Mayor, but now that he was dead, she was beginning to think that she was the woman for the job. She just needed to play her cards right. She'd been in Goodneighbor longer than Hancock and had connections all over the Commonwealth. If she could pull off her master plan, it would cripple Hancock financially. And if she could convince Vault girl to help, her plan could cripple Hancock emotionally as well. Then, when he was nothing more than a shell of the man he once was, when he was at his lowest point, she'd be able to take over with relative ease.

When she robbed him of everything he had ever accumulated, everyone would see that she was the right woman to lead Goodneighbor into a new era of financial stability. She liked that idea immensely, but careful planning was necessary. She smiled as she pulled out a small notebook from her vest pocket. She had some brainstorming to do.

…

The next day, Nora slept well into the afternoon. She had woken up a few times earlier in the day but could not bring herself to actually leave the warmth and comfort of her bed. She was thoroughly exhausted from her recent adventuring and hadn't had the luxury of sleeping in a real bed in weeks. With no real reason to rush her much-needed R&R, she took this opportunity to relax as long as her body and mind would allow.

Dogmeat was apparently tired too. He laid at the foot of the bed on his back with all four paws up in the air. She chuckled softly as she listened to his cute puppy snores. Occasionally he'd turn his head to one side or the other and his tongue would hang out of his mouth. He was a good boy and she was happy to have some company.

Turning over onto her stomach, Nora reached across the bed and opened the drawer of her worn wooden nightstand. Inside was Nate's wedding ring wrapped in the tiny sliver of Shaun's baby blanket.

She unwrapped the ring from the blanket and held both in her hand; Nate's ring sat atop Shaun's blanket in her open palm. This image described her life pre-Vault 111: Nate was her rock, her core and together they intended to be the best parents they could be to Shaun. Now, she had only the memory of their short, happy life together, their dreams and goals; none of that would happen now.

Looking at the torn, dirty blue fabric of Shaun's blanket, she couldn't believe how quickly – and drastically – things had changed. This fabric described her life post-Vault 111 – ragged, frayed, only a small portion of what it originally was, one piece separated from its other pieces... She felt herself tearing up. As much as she tried to put on a strong, tough girl face, she was still in a lot of emotional pain, a pain that refused to subside with time.

The most difficult part of it all was the fact that she had no closure. She didn't understand why someone would kill her husband. She didn't understand why someone would steal her son. She didn't understand why anyone would leave her alive to suffer such a devastating loss. Part of her wished that they would have killed her too. Perhaps it would have been kinder. But they left her alive and that was their biggest mistake.

She needed to go to the Memory Den and ask if they could help her jog her memory. As much as she didn't want to relive the horrors of Vault 111, any detail could help her track down the mysterious man who had caused her so much pain. She needed to find that piece of shit sooner rather than later. Every minute that monster drew breath was a minute too long.

She was also ready to start living in the present. She needed to find her place in this new world. She was young and had a full life ahead of her. She desperately wanted to start building a future instead of constantly chasing shadows of the past. Part of her was ready to accept what happened and move on, but she just couldn't until she had answers.

She wrapped the ring into the blanket and placed it back into the nightstand. With a renewed sense of purpose, Nora started strategizing. She would ask Doctor Amari and Irma about the Memory Den's other, non-medical services when she went to see them later tonight. She needed to get her bandages changed anyway so talking with Irma would be hitting two birds with one stone. Then, once she had a fresh recollection of the events in Vault 111, she would make her way to Diamond City and look for information there.

That was it. That was the extent of her grand plan to find Shaun and avenge Nate. She shook her head sadly with disappointment. It wasn't much of a plan but it was all she had to go on. Her recent history, the bombs falling, and the events that transpired in Vault 111 – it was all so crazy. She didn't even know where to begin explaining that to someone else. She had no family, no friends, no clout, no reputation, no caps, and no connections. And being new to the Commonwealth, she didn't know who she could trust to ask for help.

Goodneighbor had many residents from whom she could potentially acquire information. But, with her bright blue and yellow Vault suit, she stuck out like a sore thumb. She could tell a difference in the way people treated her when she wore her Vault suit versus when she wore regular clothing. In her Vault suit, she was a target. People assumed that she was naïve and/or hoity-toity, thus they weren't quite as open with her. They gave her disapproving looks, stared at her like she was an alien, or did their best to avoid her altogether.

But when she left the Memory Den in regular clothes, people seemed more friendly. She looked less of a prude and more like someone they could relate to. She needed to blend and fit in – it wasn't simply for convenience, but for survival as well. She did not want another Finn incident to occur. Hancock wouldn't always be there to protect her.

Hancock. She felt a warm feeling in her chest just thinking about him. He protected her, a stranger, at great physical and political cost. That wasn't something that happened everyday. Something about his eyes, the way he looked at her, the way he put his body between her and danger – it made her feel safe – comfortable. Maybe she could talk to him about what happened to her. Maybe he'd listen and understand. Out of everyone she had met thus far, he seemed the most trustworthy to her. His actions spoke volumes of his intent.

But he was a busy man – he had a town to run and he was clearly in some political turmoil. She didn't want to waste his valuable time with her family drama and petty personal problems. Nora sighed heavily. She had a lot on her plate and she would need her strength for what would come next. Moving back to her side of the bed, careful not to disturb a snoozing Dogmeat, Nora turned over onto her side and slowly fell back asleep.

…

Fahrenheit sat alone at the Third Rail. Perched atop a sturdy bar stool, she watched with boredom as Whitechapel Charlie sanitized the bar. "Another bottle, Guv?" he asked quietly. Fahrenheit shook her head yes and Charlie pulled out a fresh bottle of vodka from underneath the bar. He quickly poured her a glass and went back to his work.

The events of the past few days were concerning, but Fahrenheit had a few ideas in mind to get the people of Goodneighbor back on Hancock's side. In her experience, she had observed that most people want three things: sustenance, security, and entertainment. Living in a settlement like Goodneighbor, the basics of survival (food, water, shelter) were taken care of. Despite its lowly reputation in the Commonwealth, Goodneighbor took care of its own. There was plenty of work to do and everyone shared food, drink, and chems.

The next on her list was survival. This was an area where her father needed to make up lost ground. Finn's final speech, about Hancock being soft and weak, may have planted the seeds of doubt into the minds of the people who were listening. Hancock had an open-door policy regarding newcomers that some in town were not fond of. It wasn't that they didn't like newcomers, they were simply concerned about the allocation of community resources. Knowing this, her father was careful to make sure that there was never a shortage of basic necessities so that the number of newcomers into town would be both tolerated and accommodated. He told everyone that while an extra person was another mouth to feed, they were also an extra gun. Most people went along with that.

To bolster her father's image in terms of security, she advised him earlier that day that it was time for him to make his famous "Institute speech" again. It was a message of strength and unity – and the people really liked that. As an incumbent politician, all Hancock really needed to do was show the people that he cared about their problems, had their best interests at heart, and was their best bet for survival and freedom. He had done well since he was initially elected six years ago, but he needed to stay relevant in the people's minds if he wanted to keep his position.

The last thing he needed was a mutiny. Mutiny was an almost irreparable show of weakness. If a leader couldn't handle those under his command, how could he handle anything else? That is what the people would think if Finn's opposition took root or grew in influence. Her father didn't need to look soft or weak – no – he needed a display of power and strength. The institute speech would facilitate that desired result.

For entertainment, the last item on her list, Fahrenheit sent a message to her friends at the Atom Cats. She and Zeke, the leader of the Atom Cats – well, lets just say that they had a history. He owed her a favor and she was about to collect. She grinned enthusiastically. No one would be expecting what she and the Cats had planned.

As she lit a cigarette, Fahrenheit looked around the bar. It was surprisingly empty for a Thursday afternoon. But things were sure to get busier as the night went on. "Hey, Charlie," Fahrenheit called, "c'mere for a second, would ya?" Charlie stopped mopping the VIP room floors and gravitated over to where she was sitting at the bar.

Looking at her halfway full bottle of vodka, Charlie raised a mechanical eyebrow. "Considering that you're still working on that drink, I'll assume that you want to talk business?" he asked curiously. Fahrenheit nodded. "Yep," she replied, "we've got ourselves a bit of a… rat problem. We need an exterminator – a new one, unaffiliated with our organization – to take care of our pest problem. Exterminate them all. No witnesses and no excuses. Payment's 200 caps to be collected after the job is done."

There was a brief pause. "Where are these rats?" Charlie asked. "They're holed up in three of the old warehouses in town. Building numbers 1764, 1986, and 2315." Charlie indicated that he understood and went back to cleaning. Fahrenheit chugged her drink, put out her cigarette, and stumbled towards the door. She needed to check in with the guards on patrol and talk with her father. He was supposed to be giving his big speech tonight.

…

It was nearly nightfall when Nora finally ventured outside for a cigarette. When she stepped outside, she immediately wished she had brought a coat or something to wrap up in. Summer had come and gone and Autumn was steadily approaching. As she lit her cigarette, she heard a familiar voice call out nearby.

"Hey everyone!" she heard Hancock yell from the balcony of the Old Statehouse. "Gather 'round! Let's kick the breeze back… shoot the fat…" Nora turned and followed a crowd of residents and Neighborhood Watch guards to the open area in front of the balcony. She settled herself towards the back of the crowd behind everyone else. She felt that she had drawn enough attention to herself when she first arrived and didn't want to be disruptive or disturbed any further. It didn't appear that Hancock saw her standing there.

"Now I know you all are doing your own thing," Hancock continued, "but I don't want anyone here to forget what matters." Hancock pointed a weathered finger at himself and then at the crowd. "We freaks gotta stick together," he said warmly placing his hand on his heart, "And the best way to stick together is to keep an eye out for what drives us apart, feel me?"

"Yeah you tell it like it is, Hancock!" yelled a ghoul in the crowd beside her. Others in the crowd murmured in agreement. With a good-natured chuckle, Hancock waited until the crowd settled back down to continue his speech.

"Now what out there in our big, friendly Commonwealth would want to drive us apart?" Hancock asked. There was some uncomfortable shifting, but no one answered. Hancock wasn't deterred by the crowd's lack of response so he asked his question in a slightly different way. "What kind of twisted, unneighborly boogeyman would want to hurt our peaceful community?" His obsidian eyes swept from left to right as he looked for someone to answer him.

"The Institute and their synths!" a mysterious man wearing dark-tinted glasses and a white t-shirt yelled. Nora hadn't heard much about the Institute other than whispers from passing travelers and traders. People seemed scared of them, but Nora wasn't quite sure why. She made a mental note to ask someone about that later.

Hancock seemed pleased by the man's answer. "That's right!" he said excitedly. "Who said that? Come on up to my office later. You've earned yourself some jet." Nora chuckled. Hancock had a generous, easy-going way about him. She could easily see why he was so well-liked.

"The Institute!" Hancock repeated as he placed his hands on the balcony's wooden railing and leaned forward. "They're the real enemy! Not the raiders, not the super mutants, not even those tools over in Diamond City!"

The crowd snickered at Hancock's last remark. "I don't know, Hancock," one of the Neighborhood Watch guys said with a wide, boyish grin, "I'd sure love to give McDonough a kick in the ass!" The crowd roared with raucous laughter. Nora didn't know who this McDonough was but he clearly wasn't well liked by the citizens of Goodneighbor. She made another mental note to ask someone about him later as well. So far, she thought that Hancock's speech had been informative. She needed to learn all that she could about the Commonwealth's major players if she was ever going to find Shaun.

"Hey, we all know I got my own personal beef with that lard head," Hancock laughed, "but lets stay focused. Now I want everyone to keep the Institute in mind. When someone starts acting funny. When people are doing things they don't normally do. When family starts pushing you away for no reason. We all know who's behind that kind of shit."

Several people in the crowd nodded and whispered among themselves. "And the only way to stop it is to stick together," Hancock said, his volume increasing with every word. "They can't control us if we're not afraid! Now who's scared of the Institute?" Hancock yelled defiantly.

"Not us!" the crowd yelled back.

"And which town in the Commonwealth should the Institute not fuck with?" Hancock roared slamming his hands down on the balcony railing.

"Goodneighbor!" the crowd yelled boisterously.

"And who's in charge of Goodneighbor?" Hancock growled.

"Hancock! Of the people, for the people!" the crowd answered before erupting into cheers and claps. Hancock gave a devilishly handsome grin and waved at everyone ceremoniously before returning to the Old Statehouse.

The crowd slowly dispersed and the townspeople chatted excitedly about Hancock's speech. It gave her a lot to think about. Perhaps this McDonough character or this mysterious Institute had information about Shaun. She needed to do some investigating. As she mulled over the new players she had just heard about, Nora walked over to the Memory Den.

When she stepped inside, she heard a strange, eerie sound coming from one of the side rooms. The sound seemed familiar but she couldn't quite place where she'd heard it before. As she approached the room where the sound was coming from, her heart did a happy dance inside her chest. It was the Silver Shroud theme song! She couldn't believe what she was hearing and she felt compelled to investigate. She burst through the door wide-eyed with delight.

Upon entry, she initially didn't see anyone. But then she heard grunting and swearing coming from the back of the room. As she turned the corner, she saw a memory lounger, radio equipment, and a bed. She looked down towards the floor and observed the hindquarters and legs of a small man sticking out from under a worn bedframe and mattress. "Where is it?" the man said angrily as he rustled for something under the bed, "I know its here somewhere…" Nora didn't know exactly what to do or say in that moment so she stood there watching. The man was getting increasingly more frustrated.

"IRMA!" the man half yelled, half whined loudly as he bumped his head against the top of the metal bedframe, "Ow! Argggh! What did you do with my limited edition Silver Shroud figurines? The ones in the gray box? I just know you moved them!" Nora continued to watch with interest. "Dammit," the man huffed as he began to extricate himself from under the bed. "Well, did you at least load up the memory pod?" he asked as he lifted himself off of the ground.

His back was turned towards her and she didn't want to frighten him. "I'm not Irma," Nora said softly trying not to startle the man. The man quickly turned to look at her and gasped. She could now see that the man was a short, smaller-framed ghoul with large glasses. "W-Who are you?" the ghoul asked cautiously. "I'm Nora," she said warmly, "I heard the Si-"

"What are you doing in my room?" the man interrupted as he quickly looked around him and picked up a wooden spoon from off of the radio desk. By the way he brandished the spoon, it appeared that he intended to use said spoon as a melee weapon. "You know what?" the ghoul huffed, "I don't care." The ghoul approached her and led her by her uninjured arm out of the room. Once she was outside of the room, he closed the door so that only a small portion of his face could still be seen. "You can tell whoever you're working for that I'm not paying them shit," he said roughly, "If they have beef they can come here to Goodneighbor and deal with me themselves, not send some bargain bounty hunter? You've got a bum arm and no weapons. Who do they think I am – some chump? That I'm just gonna pony up whatever they want just 'cause they say so? I don't think so…"

Nora sighed deeply. She would've been offended if she hadn't been so amused. "I'm not a bounty hunter," she began, "bargain or otherwise." The man didn't seem convinced. "Yeah," he said mockingly, "uh-huh. Sure you're not. Why else would you be here bothering me?"

Nora sighed again. "I heard the Silver Shroud theme song and followed it to your room," she told him. "I am a huge fan. My family and I listened to every episode." Nora turned to the side and lifted her tank top up so that her ribcage artwork was showing. It was a small tattoo of the Silver Shroud shooting his Silver Submachine gun.

The man's eyes widened. He abruptly opened the door. "Oh my god!" he squeaked with disbelief, "That is some sick ink!" Nora laughed. Now he was getting it. "Yep," she said with a grin. "I'm a huge fan and I've listened to every episode." The man's facial expressions went from annoyance to surprise to pure joy in a matter of seconds. "Oh my god," the man said. "Tell me, what is your favorite episode? Mine is the murder mystery of the Collins house…"

"Isn't that the one where the wife's secret lover kills the husband and tries to frame the trusty old butler?"

"Yes!" the man said excitedly, "I love it when the Shroud says: 'Dastardly villain, do you really think that you can trick the Silver Shroud with your lies! Jus-'"

"'Justice comes for you this night, malignant murderer of innocents!'" Nora interrupted as she finished his quote. The man looked like he could faint with excitement. "My favorite is the kidnapping on the international space station." Nora said excitedly. Her nerdy side was starting to come out, but considering her audience, that part of her personality was greatly appreciated.

"The one where the foreign spy sneaks onto the station as a stow away and hides in the vents for days waiting for the right time to swipe the First Mate?" he asked. Nora laughed and nodded. It had been quite some time since she had a real conversation about the Silver Shroud. "That was a good one!" the man exclaimed happily. They continued chatting excitedly for several minutes about their favorite episodes and characters.

"So," the man asked, "What's your story, huh? I don't know you so you must be new." Nora hesitated but decided that telling the truth was the best way to go. "Well," Nora began uneasily, "I was alive before the bombs fell. I was in cryogenic storage and just woke up." The man's eyes lit up. "Whoa," he exclaimed, "that's amazing! You're just like Mister Abominable from Episode 83!" Nora laughed. "Wasn't he a caveman?" The man nodded excitedly and proceeded to explain the plotline of that episode with great enthusiasm.

"Oh my god," he said happily, "It's so great to meet another Shroud fan who remembers the lost episodes! I've gotta show you my collection of Silver Shroud figurines! I painted them myself!"

Before either of them could do anything, a quiet cough came from the back of the main room. Both Irma and Doctor Amari stood staring at them in disbelief. Doctor Amari looked over at Irma, pushed her glasses back onto her nose, and shook her head. Irma looked completely flabbergasted. "Oh dear," she said softly, "There are two of you now?" The man just laughed. "These two can't stand my obsession with the Silver Shroud," he said pointing his thumb over his shoulder at them. "They just don't appreciate style and class." The man looked very happy with himself.

Both Irma and Doctor Amari rolled their eyes dramatically. "I guess you're really here to get that shoulder looked at, huh?" the man asked pointing at Nora's bandages. Nora nodded. "Well then," the man said as he shook her uninjured hand eagerly, "I'm Kent Connolly, by the way. It's nice to meet you, Nora. I'm happy to finally meet someone who loves the Silver Shroud *almost* as much as I do. Most people today could care less. I try to tell them that the Silver Shroud is a iconic, pre-war treasure trove of action, adventure, and romance… but no one listens to me." Nora smiled. "I would love to continue our conversation later if you have time," she told him. Kent squealed with delight. "I'd like that a lot," he said as he regained his posture. With that, he waved at her and went back into his room.

"There's two of you now…" Irma whispered shaking her head. "Please promise me that you won't ask him to show you his Silver Shroud figurine collection," she said wearily. "Last time he pulled that collection out, it took me months to convince him to put it back into storage. My workspace became littered with every possible miniature rendition of the Silver Shroud. It was… excessive." Nora giggled. "Perhaps this is a bad time to tell you that I too have a Silver Shroud miniature collection…" Nora said with a playful grin. Irma groaned and shook her head. "I need a drink," Irma said as she slowly walked over to her red chair.

Nora followed Doctor Amari downstairs to her lab and sat in the dentist's chair. As Doctor Amari began her work, Nora felt compelled to ask questions about Hancock's speech. "Doctor," Nora asked quietly, "What's the Institute?" She watched as Doctor Amari's eyes widened and a look of panic crossed her face.

"You've never heard of the Institute?" Doctor Amari asked with a look of serious disbelief. Nora shook her head no. "I've been frozen in a Vault since the bombs fell in 2077," Nora quickly explained. "I just recently woke up and have no idea what's happened since then." Doctor Amari continued cleaning her wound silently. After a few moments, Doctor Amari told her what she wanted to know. "The Institute is a secretive, scientific organization here in the Commonwealth," Doctor Amari began, "No one knows who they are, where they're located, or what they stand for. But they create synths – synthetic humanoids – that look, act, and feel just like real humans."

"I just heard Mayor Hancock give a speech where he implied that the Institute replaced people," Nora interrupted, her curiosity piqued. "What's that about?" Doctor Amari sighed heavily. "Some believe that the Institute places compliant synths in positions of power to keep control of the Commonwealth from behind the scenes," Doctor Amari answered. "Others believe that they replace people in strategic areas specifically to spy on us and gather intel. You can see how such beliefs can cause mass hysteria and paranoia."

"Is any of it true though?" Nora asked. Doctor Amari's eyes quickly and cautiously scanned the room. "It's best if we don't discuss these things anymore," she told Nora quietly as she finished changing the bandages. Doctor Amari seemed tense, so Nora didn't push the matter any further. Nora wanted to know more about this Institute, but she'd have to obtain that information from someone else. Nora thanked Doctor Amari and promised to return in a few days for a final checkup.

As Nora exited the Memory Den, she felt her stomach growl and gargle. She hadn't eaten in quite some time, so perhaps dinner was appropriate. She remembered seeing food at the general store near the front gate.

"Hey," said a female ghoul with lovely hair from behind the counter as she entered the store, "I don't think we've met. I'm Daisy, proprietor of this fine establishment." Daisy gestured to the store as she said 'fine establishment.' Nora gave a charming smile. "Hey, Daisy," she said, "I'm Nora. I'm new in town and I am starving! What kind of snacks do you have here?" Daisy laughed and pointed her to the aisle closest to the door. "Thank you!" Nora said cheerfully. "So polite! You walk into my store and you aren't even screaming yet." she heard Daisy say under her breath.

Nora walked over to the snack aisle and her eyes widened as she beheld the grand assortment of munchables in stock. Grabbing two bottles of Nuka Cola Cherry, a box of Sugar Bombs, and two boxes of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes, Nora slowly approached Daisy to checkout. It took her two trips to get everything to the counter with her bum shoulder.

Daisy watched her carefully as she brought her items to the counter. "I like your tattoos," Daisy commented. Both of Nora's arms, from her wrists to the tops of her shoulders, were covered in intricate designs. "Thanks," Nora said with a warm smile. "Where'd you get those done?" Daisy asked curiously as she totaled up Nora's purchases. "There aren't many tattoo artists anymore..."

"Well," Nora started, "I got the flower ones done in London, the space-themed ones in California, and the mandalas were done right here in Boston." Daisy, who had been scribbling in her inventory book, looked up at her in mild disbelief. "London, huh… Like London, England?" Nora nodded as she handed Daisy caps for her food. "Yeah my dad's from there –" Nora quickly caught herself. "Er, well, he was from there…" Her father was dead now and had been for two centuries.

Daisy took her caps, but was still looking at her strangely. It then occurred to Nora that international travel probably hadn't been a thing since the bombs fell. She felt the need to explain her unusual situation. "I was alive when the bombs fell in 2077," Nora told her. Daisy looked her over for a few seconds and then laughed hysterically. "You're pre-war?" Daisy asked with a grin, raising her hairless eyebrows, "Me too! Although I find it hard to believe that you are so well-preserved…" Daisy smoothed her hair back with a weathered hand. "But I guess it would explain your ink…"

"I was frozen until just recently," Nora told her. "I was locked up in a Vault…" Daisy considered her explanation carefully. She didn't seem entirely convinced. "Well, if you're really pre-war, tell me, what was your favorite thing about the world back then?" Daisy asked her. "I miss my family. A lot. They didn't make it," Nora said sadly, "We had a cute little house with the greenest grass and a white picket fence. We had no monsters, no chaos, no war – it was just so peaceful and simple back then…"

She looked up when she heard Daisy sniffle. "Well," Daisy said quickly regaining herself, "you're either the most well-preserved ghoul I've ever met or the second best bull shitter in Goodneighbor."

"Only the second best?" Nora asked with a raised brow and small grin. Daisy nodded and laughed. "Yep. The best bull shitter in Goodneighbor is walking into my store right now."

…

Hancock watched from the front gate as Nora entered Daisy's shop. He had been strengthening some of their outer defenses after his speech. A gust of cool Autumn wind blew by him and he pulled his red coat closer to his body. If he was cold, then Nora must have been freezing – all she had on was a tank top and sweatpants. But maybe that was all she could wear with her injuries.

He felt conflicted about seeing her unexpectedly. He had spent part of the morning thinking about how he wanted his second real interaction with her to be. He considered inviting her to get a drink at the Rail or maybe asking her to join him for a chem break if she was into that kind of thing.

But he didn't really know anything about her and was afraid to do something to put her off. He hesitated making an unplanned formal appearance but he didn't know when or if he'd have the opportunity to talk with her again. His gut told him to go for it. So, with a deep breath and a short prayer to whatever mystical forces were listening, Hancock walked towards Daisy's shop.

"Hey, Daisy!" Hancock said cheerfully with a playful grin as he strode into the store. He looked briefly at Nora, who was in the process of paying for her food, but focused most of his attention on Daisy.

"How's my favorite girl doing?" Hancock continued with a grin, "Didn't I see you on a date with Marowski the other day?" He knew that ridiculous question would make Daisy laugh and lighten the mood. As he expected, Daisy snorted loudly. "dIdN't I sEe YoU oN a DaTe WiTh MaRoWsKi ThE oThEr DaY?" Daisy repeated mockingly. Her impression of him was surprisingly and disturbingly accurate. She must mock him often. They'd have to have a talk about that later…"Hah! He wishes!" Daisy yelled. Everyone within earshot began to laugh, including KL-EO and the drifters hanging out on the park benches in front of the shop.

Hancock felt a bit of relief as he watched Nora giggle as well. This whole interaction was unplanned, risky, and could come back to bite him later. But, at the very least, she would remember that he made her laugh. That had to count for something, right? God, it had been a long time since he had been interested in someone. He felt a bit rusty.

He then realized that it would look weird if he didn't buy something. He wanted it to look like he was going to come into Daisy's store anyway, regardless of whether Nora was in there or not. So, he grabbed a Nuka Cola off of the shelf and quickly paid Daisy.

"And how's our newcomer, huh?" Hancock asked warmly, turning his attention to Nora. He tried to keep a respectable distance from her so she wouldn't feel cornered. People didn't like that. He also made sure to keep eye contact with her. He did not allow his eyes to wander any further South than her chin. He was a gentleman after all. "I'm feeling pretty good," Nora told him, "Doctor Amari is a miracle worker. She had me patched up in no time."

"Yeah, we're real glad to have her here," Hancock said as he walked closer to the door where Nora was standing. Seeing her in the proper light, Hancock realized a few things. First, she was cool. She had tattoos and a variety of piercings. She looked like someone who enjoyed living on the wild side sometimes. Being a troublemaker himself, he could dig that.

Second, she was much smaller than he remembered. She was short - the top of her head came up almost to his chin. And without the armor and insulated padding of her vault suit, she looked thin – borderline too thin – wiry even. She had the look of someone who had recently lost some weight and not by choice. Going from pre-war housewife to Commonwealth adventurer was probably not an easy transition.

Third, she was tough and gutsy. Despite having a bum arm when she arrived to Goodneighbor, she still managed to take a swipe at Finn and draw blood. He remembered how she stealthily grabbed her knife and did her best to damage Finn. She was going to put up a fight even though she was outnumbered and outmatched. He admired that kind of spirit.

He then saw her look away from him. He'd made the mistake of keeping eye contact but neglecting their conversation for too long. Some people found that unnerving. He needed to do something to get her attention again.

"I know last night was kinda rough for you," he told her with quiet concern, "I'm sorry about all that." He was standing close to her now, close enough to have a private conversation but far away enough to respect her personal boundaries. He hoped that she could tell that he wanted to appear friendly but not uncomfortably so. She looked back up at him and smiled. "Thank you for coming to my rescue," she told him gently. "I don't think I would've made it much longer had you not intervened." He smiled at her.

"So, other than the little spat yesterday with Finn, how are you liking our little community so far?" he asked, his soft onyx eyes resting gently on hers. "I've got no complaints," Nora told him with a small smile as she tried to stuff the food she bought into a bag. As she struggled with the bag, she dropped her box of Sugar Bombs. Hancock quickly reached down and picked it up. She laughed as she took the box back from him.

"Thanks, Hancock," she said as she placed the box of Sugar Bombs into her bag, "I'm still a bit of a mess, but today's been great. I got to be lazy, sleep in a real bed, and eat tons of junk food all while receiving superb medical care. And after you consider the chems and bourbon I've had, its been a pretty good time."

Hancock chuckled. "Now that sounds like fun," he said longingly. "I could use a day or two of R&R myself." Nora watched as Hancock opened his Nuka Cola and took a swig. "I've been so swamped lately," Hancock continued with a mildly glum look, "with the usual shit, ya know, mayoral duties and whatnot." Nora thought that he looked sad. She knew the kind of stress he was under and quickly thought of a way to cheer him up.

"Yeah, I'd say you've been pretty busy," Nora said warmly, her green eyes sparkling bright with mischief, "You've been fighting crime, punishing evildoers, protecting the innocent, giving rousing speeches…" Nora chuckled and looked up at him. "You're starting to sound like Boston's favorite do-gooder," she said softly.

Hancock looked confused, so Nora quickly flipped on the radio of her pip-boy and the Silver Shroud theme began to play. "When evil walks the streets of Boston, one man lurks in the shadows. Shielding the innocent. Judging the guilty. That guardian is... the Silver Shroud!" Nora giggled as she watched Hancock intently, attempting to gauge his reaction. She wasn't sure if he would appreciate her dorky attempt to cheer him up or not.

Hancock managed to keep a mostly straight face but he was genuinely surprised. She was comparing him to a fucking superhero. He couldn't help but feel good about that comparison. There was a first time for everything he supposed. And, being a huge fan of the Silver Shroud himself, her compliment was well received.

"Well," Hancock said chuckling, "I may not be the Nightmare of Night or the Deceptive Detective, but I try my best to do the right thing… even if its hard." He was trying really hard to play it cool, but he couldn't stop a small smile from forming on his wrinkled face.

Nora reached out and placed her uninjured hand on his shoulder. "Keep at it," she whispered with a gentle smile, "You're doing a good job. From what I've seen, the people here really like you. You must be doing something right." His eyes widened slightly at her touch and her words. He couldn't stop a real smile from forming.

Nora was glad that her lame attempt to cheer him up appeared to work. She thought that happy looked good on him. It softened his rougher features and made him shine even brighter than before… "Well, I know you're a busy man," Nora said warmly, "with the usual shit, mayoral duties and whatnot." Hancock chuckled at her reference to his earlier words. "But if you get some free time this evening," Nora continued, "and you're feeling up to it, you should stop by the bar. I could use a little help with this."

Reaching into her bag, Nora showed Hancock the mostly full handle of bourbon. "Doctor's orders, huh?" Hancock grinned handsomely as he stepped slightly closer to Nora. They were only a few inches apart now. "I can't promise anything," he whispered, "but I'll try to stop by after my evening appointments. I could use a drink or two..."

"Hey!" Daisy yelled, causing both Nora and Hancock to jump slightly backwards. In the moment, they'd both forgotten that Daisy was still standing there. "I want a drink too!" Daisy whined playfully, winking mischievously at Nora. "You should invite me too! Whatever happened to the phrase 'sharing is caring?'" Nora giggled and quickly walked out of the store. Hancock lingered for a few moments as he watched Nora walk away.

Daisy walked around the counter and put her arm around Hancock lovingly. "She's cute, don't you think?" Daisy said teasingly. Hancock rolled his eyes. "But isn't she a bit old for you?" she continued, "She's pre-war, you know? That makes her… well, my age."

Hancock snorted. "Now we both know that's a lie…" Daisy pretended to be offended and then laughed. "Okay, okay. So maybe I'm a little bit older…" she said. "A little?" Hancock asked with a wide grin. Daisy huffed and punched him hard in the arm as he bust out laughing. "Aw, come on Daisy," Hancock laughed, "You know I'm just playing." Daisy chuckled. "I know, I know!" she said playfully, "Now get outta my store, lover boy! You've got a date." Hancock laughed and then made his way back to the office. He had a lot to think about… and look forward to.

…


	11. Chapter 9: Into the Abyss

You Go To My Head

Chapter 9: Into the Abyss

…

Mama Murphy had been sober for over a week. She couldn't remember the last time she had gone this long without a fix. Her frail body was reeling from chem withdrawals and no one seemed to care how awful she looked or felt. Preston applauded her for turning over a new leaf, for taking steps to prolong and better her life. But if this was how it felt to be sober, she wanted no. fucking. part. of. it.

Pain and boredom were her new friends and she desperately wanted to escape from the mundane routine of settlement life. She might be getting older, but she was still a woman, damn it. She needed excitement and mental stimulation. And Sanctuary, while being safe and providing for her basic needs, was devoid of anything – and anyone – even remotely interesting. Who was she supposed to talk to or share the final stages of her life with?

Preston was a one trick pony – all he talked about was Minutemen this and settlement that. It got really old after a while. Sturges used to live an interesting life with the Atom Cats, but he was currently hyper focused on fixing that power armor. He'd chat a little here and there but she could tell that he wasn't really interested in talking. Marcy and Jun were still grieving the loss of their son which was completely understandable. And after Nora left, she really didn't have anyone to talk to anymore. She spent most of her days in relative silence. It was better than being out on the road, but she wanted and needed something more.

She sighed heavily as she pulled weeds out of the ground where their crops were planted. She was way too old for this kind of manual labor but everyone had to do their part to make Sanctuary a home, including her. Looking at her aged, wrinkled hands in the soft earth, she knew that she wasn't cut out for this lifestyle. All she did was work and sleep. Humans need more stimulation than that, otherwise they experience mental stagnation. It felt like death and Mama couldn't handle that kind of drudgery. So, she formulated a plan to make this existence tolerable. If her plan worked as intended, she would soon have a way to discreetly get the chems she needed without anyone else knowing about it.

She shakily rose to her feet and waddled across the street to the house where Codsworth was meticulously maintaining the deadened hedge. "I do hope Miss Nora is okay…" the machine said sadly as she approached. The lights on his metal casing were a dark blue, an indication that the bot was feeling sad or depressed. In fact, his lights had been blue ever since Nora left… the poor thing. Mama stopped and smiled. "She's most likely in Diamond City by now," she told the grieving bot consolingly, "There's gotta be someone there who can help her find her baby."

Codsworth beeped sadly and made a sniffling sound. "Miss Nora is the only family I have… She was gone for so long… I was sure I'd lost everyone who ever cared about me when the bombs fell… I thought I was destined to spend the rest of my eternity alone and in agony… trimming this wretched hedge…" Codsworth sniffled again, his voice was shaky and higher pitched than usual.

Mama stared at him with wide eyes and took a small step backwards. General Atomics worked really hard to give these robots the full spectrum of human emotion, but perhaps, in the case of Codsworth, they overdid it a bit. This poor machine was having a purposefully manufactured existential crisis and Mama wasn't sure how best to help him overcome it.

"Then, I was so happy when she returned," Codsworth continued, "I was just getting used to having her back… we were a family again…" He paused and sniffled some more. His lights began to transition from dark blue to black. Mama felt a tinge of panic as she was sure the poor bot was about to have a meltdown. "And now I'm alone again…" Codsworth cried loudly, "Alone with this wretched hedge!" The bot set fire to the hedge and subsequently burst into tears. Coolant streamed from each of his metal eyes onto the parched brown grass below.

Mama felt sorry for him. She patted his metal casing lovingly until he regained himself. As he put out the fire he created, his black lights slowly transitioned back to a dark blue. "Well, if you miss her so much," Mama said, "Why don't you go find her? I'm sure she'd enjoy your company." Codsworth's lights flashed green at the idea. He quickly ran simulations in his subroutines to evaluate his chances of making it to Diamond City in one piece.

According to the data generated by his simulations, the probability of him making it to Diamond City was a mere 36.573%. The conclusion generated by this data told him that he should stay put in Sanctuary for continued survival. In his subroutines, survival was ranked higher in priority than happiness.

But Codsworth was not bound by the conclusions of his subroutines. He'd spent the last 210 years following those survival protocols and he had been as miserable as his emotional programming would allow, perhaps even more than his makers intended. He was tired of being unhappy and now had a reason to disregard those survival protocols: he had a family again.

There was a high probability that Miss Nora would be happy to see him and he knew 100% that he would be happy to see her. So, he manually overrode his survival protocols and decided that he would go and find Miss Nora. As far as he was concerned, his place was by her side, his survival protocols be damned.

A small circular door at the top of Codsworth's metal casing opened up and a radio antenna extended. Once the antenna was functioning within normal parameters, Codsworth began to search for the radio signal generated by Nora's pip-boy. The trail was faint as it was a few days old, but it was enough for Codsworth to follow. His lights flashed a bright and vibrant green. "Thank you, Mama Murphy," Codsworth said happily, "I think I will go and find her. I never should have let her leave on her own." Mama smiled as the bot gravitated towards the main gate humming a happy tune.

Mama was happy that she could help Codsworth overcome his personal crisis. But she was even happier because he gave her an idea. Contemplating this idea, Mama continued walking behind the house. "Where are you going, Mama?" Sturges called from the garage across the street where the workshop was. "I've gotta pee," she replied, "I'll be right back!" Sturges nodded and returned his attention to the suit of power armor.

Sturges was a good boy, but he was very protective. That was a good quality when they were out on the road, but now that they were in a settlement, it felt more like micromanagement. Mama knew that he didn't mean anything by it. He, like everyone else in this town, was still traumatized by their journey from Quincy: jumping at shadows and worrying about everything. Hopefully, they would all settle down in time.

When she was out of sight, Mama turned to the left and walked three houses down. She had the great fortune of finding an old chemistry station behind one of the dilapidated houses while she was out on a walk a few nights ago. It was mostly obscured by brush and tall grass, which made it even better. No one else had noticed it, so she could sneak over there unseen and work on collecting ingredients to make her own homebrewed chems. That was her plan to make settlement life tolerable: she would make her own chems and take them in small doses so not as to be noticed by the others.

She opened the drawer of the chem station and added more ingredients that she had scrounged. She almost had what she needed to make a batch of Jet, but she lacked one final ingredient. While she had fertilizer and plastic, she needed some oil to make the old chemistry station run again. It had been dry for quite some time and needed a little oil to get the internal cogs and gears moving smoothly. She knew that there was no more oil in Sanctuary due to the addition of several new turrets, but there had to be some at the Red Rocket. It was a gas station after all.

She distinctly remembered seeing a red gas can by the workshop over there. But how was she supposed to get over there and retrieve it without raising suspicion? She couldn't just leave Sanctuary. Preston had posted himself at the main entrance and rarely left that position. Sturges and Jun took turns manning defensive posts in the Northern and Southern parts of the town. They did patrols at all hours of the day and night.

It would be very difficult to sneak away long enough to grab the gas can and return unseen. If she was gone too long, the others would investigate. And if she was caught trying to sneak out of town, the others would start asking questions. Mama didn't want to jeopardize her discovery of the chem station, so she needed to come up with a plan that would give her the time she needed to get the oil without being noticed.

Closing the drawer quietly, Mama decided that she needed to cause a distraction. Then, while everyone was focused on the distraction, she'd sneak over to Red Rocket. And thanks to Codsworth, she knew exactly what her distraction would be.

She quietly walked back over to the house where Sturges saw her earlier and went back to work in the field. As she continued to pull weeds from around their crops, she made a decision. Her plan – the gas can – it had to be tonight. She didn't know how much longer she could tolerate this wretched sobriety before she, like Codsworth, had a mental breakdown…

At the end of the day, when the sun was setting below the tree line, Mama snuck over to one of the houses at the very end of the street farthest away from the main gate. She didn't believe that she was seen entering the house. The house she entered was arguably the least sturdy house in Sanctuary. It was decrepit and would likely topple over on its own if a gentle breeze blew by. But there was no wind tonight; the air was dry and still. That was good. This house also sat squarely in the middle of a large concrete pad that extended several feet past the house's outer walls. That would hopefully make the bat shit crazy thing she was about to do a little bit safer.

Once inside the house, she pulled a few small sticks, a handful of dry leaves, and a matchbox out of her pockets. Someone had already gathered the house's belongings into the living room in a heap, so the hard work was already done. She arranged the sticks and leaves underneath the old overturned couch and chair. Striking the match on the lighting strip, she lit the sticks and leaves on fire. She struck several more matches – she needed a big fire – something that would take the others a little while to put out. She needed to give her frail body as much time as possible to get to Red Rocket and back unseen.

Being old and dry, the couch lit up pretty quickly. She grabbed the handle of a shovel that she used as a walking stick and lit the end like a torch. Quickly walking around the house, she lit other flammable things on fire. When she was sure that the house would burn, she snuck out the back window and quickly walked down the hill. Following the river, she walked over towards the main entrance of Sanctuary. She pretended to be washing the dirt off of herself like she usually did after a long, miserable day in the fields tending crops. She could see the Red Rocket clearly on the other side of the bridge. As soon as everyone saw the house fire she'd created, she'd be in the clear.

While she was washing, she made a point to wave at Sturges and Marcy. They would remember where she was when they found the burning house and would hopefully be less suspicious of her. Several minutes went by before she heard commotion from the main house. She watched as Preston and Sturges ran full speed down the road towards the burning house. Shortly thereafter, she saw Marcy and Jun running slowly behind them with buckets, assumedly of water. Stage one of her plan had worked. She moved as quickly as her frail old body would allow up the hill and across the bridge. She had to hurry.

She made it to the Red Rocket without any issues and entered the open garage where the workshop was. Panting heavily from the physical exertion, she saw that the red, half-full gas can was exactly where she expected it would be. Mama was reaching down to grab the gas can when she heard a gun cock from behind her. "Well, well, boys," a disturbingly familiar voice said, "what do we have here?" Mama slowly stood up, her pale blue eyes wide with fear. She didn't need to turn around to know who that wicked voice belonged to. "It's been a while…" Mama said quietly, "hasn't it, Jared."

"I'd say so," the bear of a raider growled, roughly grabbing her shoulder and forcing her to face him, "What are you doing out here all by yourself, Mama, huh?" Mama started to panic. The last thing she wanted was for Jared and his band of Corvega raiders to make a hit on Sanctuary. Even with the new turrets, the others were distracted and under gunned; they didn't stand a chance.

"I got separated from my party after we fled your boys at Concord," Mama lied, "I've been living in a cave behind this here gas station just trying to scavenge what I can to survive." Mama hoped that he would accept her lie, otherwise everyone in Sanctuary was as good as dead. She didn't want to see that happen… more death because of her stupidity.

"There is a cave just down the hill from here," one of the raiders said quietly, "I saw it when I was scouting this place earlier tonight." Jared raised an eyebrow. "I don't really care what hovel you've been squatting in," Jared growled, "what I want to know is how one disgraced minuteman, a mechanic, two peasants, and an old hag took out so many of my boys. You had to have outside help… who?"

"Didn't you see the dead Deathclaw on your way up here?" Mama asked, "It came out of the sewers and made short work of anything that got in its way… chewed through your boys like jerky."

"Yeah, yeah, I saw it," Jared said angrily, waving his hand dismissively in the air, "I've got my boys cutting off its head as we speak. Gonna hang it on my wall… but the deathclaw doesn't explain why I found so many 5mm shells littering the streets. One of you peasants has a minigun… and I want it. Think of it as penance for killing so many of my guys…"

"Before I was separated from the group, I saw them sell it to a passing trader, "Mama lied again, "They needed medical supplies far more than firepower. Your boys are tough. Between them, the deathclaw, and the ghouls in Lexington, we had a lot of injuries to recover from."

Mama desperately needed to take control of the conversation. She could tell that Jared wanted revenge for the death of his boys. He thought the others were responsible and Mama knew what happened to people who crossed Corvega Raiders; it wasn't pretty. "So, what are you really here for?" Mama asked, "I'm sure it isn't to chat with an old woman."

Jared chuckled and pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pocketed breastplate. "I came up here to skin every last one of those bastards who killed my guys," Jared began, "but then I found you. Looks like its my lucky day." Mama did nothing as he snapped the handcuffs onto her thin wrists. "You're coming back to Corvega with me and you're gonna tell me everything I wanna know about the sight," Jared said with a yellow grin. Mama knew that going to Corvega likely meant her death, but if it would protect the others, she was okay with it. A lot of this mess was her fault anyway and this was her way of making peace with that.

"I wont argue with you," Mama told him, "Anything beats living out here in the wilderness all on my own… I'm too old for this shit." Jared called his raiders back and they took a defensive position encircling her. "If we move quickly, we can be back in Lexington by dawn," Jared said enthusiastically, "The sooner we get back, the sooner Mama here can take some chems and tell me what the sight has in store for us…"

…

Codsworth sincerely wished that he would have been made a Mr. Gutsy. He sure as hell could've used the armored metal plates and the automatic weapons extensions that came standard with the average Gutsy. Luckily for him, the only enemies he had come across so far were bugs and a few feral ghouls, all of which were highly flammable.

He had been following Miss Nora's radio signal for several hours now. She did not go to Diamond City as he expected she would. Instead, she went somewhere northeast of Diamond City but still within Boston city limits. Codsworth gravitated by an old highway overpass when his radio transmitter began to beep more quickly. Miss Nora had to be close now!

He followed his radio transmitter's beeping sound to the door of a junk fence gate. "Goodneighbor?" Codsworth quietly asked himself as he basked in the warm neon glow of the lights, "Looks a bit dicey to me, but it sounds nice enough. Guess we'll see…"

When he entered Goodneighbor, he immediately noticed two shops and several scruffy ruffians. Said ruffians were noticeably staring at him. "Wow!" one of them said loudly, sounding surprisingly like a super mutant he once encountered, "A real robot butler! So shiny! I want one!" Codsworth scoffed. He guessed they'd never seen a Mr. Handy this good-looking before. He did recently buff his metal casings…

Ignoring their stares and jests, Codsworth hovered over to the first shop, which appeared to be a weapons dealer. He was intrigued to find an Assaultron Dominatrix tending the counter. He had never seen one outside of a military setting before.

He was very aware of their destructive capabilities so he proceeded in the most friendly and respectful way possible. "Hello there," Codsworth said cheerfully addressing the Assaultron, "I am looking for a friend…" He sensed the Assaultron scanning him up and down as it considered its answer. "I can be your friend, baby," the Assaultron told him in a woman's voice with a tone he registered as seductive.

"Oh my…" Codsworth said awkwardly. Was this Assaultron… flirting with him? He felt his core temperature begin to increase unexpectedly. His outer lights flashed a soft pink color. He was, in human terms, blushing. He silently cursed his emotional programming and external display lights; sadly, he had no control over them. The ruffians loitering directly outside the store began to snort and giggle as they watched the strange encounter.

The Assaultron noticed his lights change color. She sashayed around the counter and approached him slowly and dramatically, deliberately rocking her curved metal hips with each forward step. Codsworth's eyes widened. While his soft pink lights were meant to indicate slight embarrassment, they could be mistaken by someone unfamiliar with his programming manual as amorous. Perhaps the Assaultron thought this. He wanted to correct this misunderstanding, but when she stood in front of him, looking directly into his optical units, his mental subroutines had a malfunction – they failed to connect with his verbal output speakers. He had never seen anything – or anyone – like her before…

"My sensory scan informs me that your designation is registered as Mr Handy… domestic model," the Assaultron purred. "That's correct," Codsworth said nervously in a high pitched voice as he repeated his programmed sales bit, "My designation comes with the equipment needed to make a happy home for you and your loved ones. For an affordable sum of-"

The Assaultron placed her thin metal pointer finger over his verbal output speakers, silencing him. "Equipment, huh?" the Assaultron chuckled as she ran her fingers gently across his metal casing, "Why don't we go upstairs and you can show me what that equipment can do…" She flashed the right side of her optical light at him. Was that a wink? If Codsworth had a jaw, it would be on the floor of the shop right now. He was taken completely off guard by the Assaultron's advances.

Codsworth erupted in nervous giggles as his outward lights turned a bright shade of magenta. He had never encountered a situation like this before and had no idea how to react. The Assaultron Dominatrix was very forward in her… requests? When he couldn't think of anything to say or do, he quickly bid her farewell and made a very hasty exit, inadvertently knocking over a small display of .45 ammo as he turned the corner. He could hear those unwashed miscreants roaring with laughter as he, in essence, ran away.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" Codsworth exclaimed anxiously as he gravitated down the alleyway beside the weapons store. He was relieved that the Assaultron did not follow him. His programming did not prepare him to handle such a situation.

His radio antenna was beeping very quickly now so Miss Nora had to be nearby. He decided to enter the nearest building, an old subway tunnel. Codsworth could hear music from Diamond City Radio playing downstairs. But before he could descend the staircase, he saw a ghoul in a tuxedo blocking his entrance. "What's your business here?" the ghoul asked him roughly.

Codsworth flashed a holographic image of Miss Nora. "I am looking for my friend and I have reason to believe that she is here." The ghoul nodded and allowed him entrance. In hindsight, Codsworth was unsure why he didn't just show the Assaultron the holographic picture from the start. Perhaps then he could have avoided that entire awkward and embarrassing event…

At the bottom of the stairs, Codsworth scanned the room and located Miss Nora! She was sitting next to a lady in a red dress at the bar. "Ah, Miss Nora!" Codsworth said happily as he approached her, his lights blinking bright green. "Codsworth?" Nora asked with a surprised, yet excited expression on her face, "What are you doing here?" She stood up and embraced the bot with her uninjured arm.

"I see that you have managed to injure yourself once again," Codsworth said with concern as he scanned her injury. "Oh, it's nothing serious," Nora told him, "But what are you doing here? Is everything okay?" Codsworth beeped affirmatively. Miss Nora looked happy, but a bit confused. Codsworth decided that it was finally time to tell her how he really felt.

"I left Sanctuary… because I missed you…" Codsworth said, his lights flashing a light blue. Coolant was bubbling up around the edges of his metal eyes. "You're the only family I have and I don't want to lose you… I don't ever want to be alone again…"

"Oi," said a Mr. Handy with a thick cockney accent from behind the bar, "Get a hold of yourself, man. Can't have you dripping coolant all over my bar…" Codsworth was going to say something snarky in response, but he heard Miss Nora giggling. "Oh, its alright, Codsworth," Miss Nora said with a cheeky grin, "I didn't know you felt that way. You can stay with me as long as you'd like." That answer made Codsworth very happy.

…

When Hancock got back to his office after leaving Daisy's, he popped a Daytripper pill into his mouth. He needed something to steady and calm all of the nervous, antsy, excited energy he was feeling in his chest. After grabbing a box of fancy lads snack cakes from the counter in the back of the office, Hancock laid down on the red sofa. He sprawled out comfortably and pulled his tricorner hat over his eyes. He needed to relax for a little bit, release all of the pent-up negative energy he was feeling, and think about his next move with a clear head.

The Daytripper quickly began to take effect and he welcomed the chill vibes that he was experiencing. To be honest, his nerves had been a bit on edge since Nora came into Goodneighbor. He was happy that he'd finally crossed paths with the woman he'd seen in his visions. But seeing her, talking to her, being near her – it made him slightly anxious and he had many logical reasons to feel that way.

If his visions were accurate, as they usually were, Nora was the woman that he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with. He knew that from the start of their relationship, but she didn't. She didn't know about the visions he'd seen. She didn't know about Mama Murphy's insight. For his visions to come true, she would have to choose him and fall in love with him on her own. And as much as he tried to be a positive, upbeat guy, he knew that this would probably be an uphill battle.

Hancock sighed heavily as he felt his insecurities start to spread like poison through his thoughts, corrupting and damaging his positive sense of self. But honesty was the best policy in his mind. In his experience, it was far better for him to face those negative feelings and overcome them than to let them fester.

He was worried that Nora would not be interested in him – that his interest in her would be unrequited. To him, she was special. To her, he was probably just another guy. There were many good looking, wealthy, charming men and women in the Commonwealth that she could choose as a partner, if she even wanted a partner. Why would a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman choose to be with him?

He sighed as he felt the darker parts of his persona manifest themselves further in his thoughts. If he was being brutally honest with himself, he didn't think he had a whole lot to offer her. It was laughable to think for even one second that someone like her would be interested in someone like him. He was a old-fashioned gangster, a drug addict, and a ghoul, for fuck's sake. What positive things could he possibly bring to their relationship? He started making a list in his mind.

First, he had caps, sure. But he wasn't the wealthiest guy in the Commonwealth. He had to do a lot of shady things to get those caps. Would that be a turn off for her?

Second, he had a position of authority as Mayor of Goodneighbor, at least for now. Ladies like powerful men… right?

Third, he had a good heart. He wanted to make sure that the people around him were safe, happy, and fulfilled. That had to count for something…

Other than that, Hancock couldn't think of anything redeeming about himself. The few good qualities he had were greatly outweighed by the bad. He knew that he was probably being dramatic, but it still hurt a little to think about these things.

Hancock sighed and began to think about what he knew of Nora. When he learned that the woman from his visions was a Vault Dweller, he had some reservations. Vault Dwellers in general tend to be pretentious and holier-than-thou. They thought that they were better than everyone else because they lived underground and had dumb matching outfits. In his opinion, they were just like the Upper Stands snobs in Diamond City and he really resented that kind of attitude.

A trader from one of the Vaults came to Goodneighbor not too long ago looking for fusion cores. Instead of walking into Daisy's or KLEO's stores, like a normal person would, the trader walked up to Fahrenheit who was standing outside KLEO's shop and asked where the 'human' traders were in this settlement. Fahrenheit told him that this was their marketplace and if he had an issue with their merchants, he could fuck right off. Hancock smiled widely. He couldn't have been more proud of his daughter in that moment.

The trader followed Fahrenheit's advice and didn't return. Good riddance. Goodneighbor was a safe haven and a refuge for all of the freaks and misfits in the Commonwealth. This wasn't Diamond City; there was absolutely no room for that kind of bullshit racist attitude in this town. He was really glad that Nora wasn't like that.

He also knew that Nora recently lost her husband and son. He felt his heart ache at the thought. He couldn't imagine a life without his daughter… He didn't know how Nora could still be kind and smile after that kind of tragedy. It took a lot of guts to come here searching for answers. Her bravery was fucking incredible.

He sighed deeply as he stuffed a chocolate crème cupcake into his mouth. He wanted to be strong and brave in how he approached Nora, but, if he was truly honest with himself, he was afraid. He'd been hurt in love before and didn't know if he could handle that kind of pain again. It had been many years since he and Fahrenheit left Diamond City, but the memories of his past marriage were still fresh in his mind.

Hancock spent a lot of time thinking about what went wrong in that relationship. Most obviously, to him at least, was the fact that he and his ex wife, Lena, weren't equal. Balance of power in a relationship is important and due to their unequal standing in society, he found himself with little bargaining power. Lena was the only child of an affluent, Upper Stands family and it showed. In the relationship, it was her way or nothing. He grew to resent that. Not that he wanted to control everything, but he wanted to feel like she at least considered his point of view before making a big decision. He wanted to feel included, like he was a valued member of their partnership, but he never was. She pulled rank way more often than he'd like to admit and he, trying to avoid conflict, just rolled with it.

But Lena wasn't the only one bringing problems into the marriage. He had a lot of trauma from his youth that was unresolved at the time. He had always been the black sheep of his family, always in the shadows of his older brother's achievements. His parents clearly had a preference as to which son they loved more and that really hurt his feelings. No one wants to be rejected by their parents. That kind of rejection is a heavy burden for someone to carry. He just wanted to be accepted for who he was, but his parents wanted him to be just like his big brother. He could never be that fake… or ugly.

To cope with the pain that comes with feeling alone, abandoned, unloved by everyone, and rejected by your own parents, he would use chems and/or drink heavily on a regular basis. Lena didn't mind that when they first got married because he was so high functioning. But it soon became a problem for her. She thought that she could change him, but that is not how trauma or healing works. You can't force people to change their behavior especially if they aren't ready or willing to change. You also can't force other people to heal on your timetable – each person heals at a rate that is unique to them. Lena, having never experienced pain or inconvenience, didn't understand that.

Then, once Fahrenheit was born, he and Lena fought constantly about how they wanted to raise her. Lena wanted Fahrenheit to be raised as an Upper Stands girl like her with all of the privileges that come along with that social class. But he wanted Fahrenheit to experience and appreciate both the Fields and the Stands. She was a child of both worlds, after all. They tried to put aside their problems and work together for Fahrenheit's sake, but that just didn't work out.

Since leaving Diamond City, Hancock had been trying to work through his past trauma and overcome his demons. It was a long, heavy process but he could definitely tell an improvement. He was a lot better now than he was back then, both mentally and emotionally. Despite his progress, there was a part of him that worried that his deep-seated insecurities would somehow bleed over into a new relationship. He didn't want that to happen, so he would have to be very careful with his heart and his actions this time.

Hancock sighed again as he ate the last cupcake in the box. The Daytripper was wearing off. He spent a few more minutes laying on the red sofa in the office letting out all of the negative energy that he had bottled up inside him. He felt like the was finally ready for a change, to do something completely different in terms of love. For that, he would need all the courage he could muster, because, deep in his core, he knew that Nora was the one. She deserved to see him at his best and brightest… at least once. He chuckled sadly at that thought.

The doors to his office opened and Fahrenheit entered the room. "Tell me you have some good news," Hancock said as he lit his cigarette. Fahrenheit closed the office doors and pulled out her small notebook. "Actually, I do," she said, "Charlie tells me that he found someone capable of taking care of our rat problem. He estimates that they will be exterminated by the end of the week." Hancock sighed heavily. "Let's hope he's right," Hancock said, "That'd take a lot of pressure off of me."

Fahrenheit made a few notations in her notebook before continuing. "I've gotten word from a passing trader that Frankie's gunners suffered another serious loss against the raiders on the West side in a turf dispute. Apparently, Frankie was seriously injured and is down to maybe two guys." Hancock chuckled darkly. "Good, you know how much I hate Frankie… that bastard…"

Fahrenheit smiled and continued with her report. "Marowski pulled in 500 extra caps this week. Apparently his connections in Diamond City are finally paying off." Hancock pulled a chocolate cupcake out of the box and stuffed it into his mouth. "That's good," Hancock said, "Let's see if it continues to pay off… we'll need the extra caps to repair the water purifiers. Water quality is starting to get bad. Real bad. Like mirelurks fucking in the tank bad…" Fahrenheit shuddered. "That's fucking gross, dad," she said wearily. "C'mon, be honest," Hancock laughed, "That's exactly what the water smells like…" Fahrenheit rolled her eyes and pretended to retch.

They continued to talk for the next hour about a variety of topics related to the maintenance of Goodneighbor and new ideas for revenue building. As they talked, Hancock kept checking the clock in the corner. "Got plans for tonight?" Fahrenheit asked, "We can catch up on this tomorrow if you want." Hancock smiled and sat up on the red sofa. "Yeah, sorry, Ladybug," he said with an apologetic grin, "Nora invited me to the Rail for drinks and I said I'd try to make it. It's getting kinda late…"

Sensing his apprehension, Fahrenheit sat next to him on the red couch. "You're gonna be awesome tonight," Fahrenheit told him, "She's already asking you to join her for drinks. That's a good sign." Hancock passed her the mostly empty box of fancy lads snack cakes. "Yeah, I thought so too," Hancock said, "I just don't want to do anything stupid to mess this up." Fahrenheit smiled as she ate the last cupcake in the box. "Just be yourself," she said with a chocolaty grin. Hancock chuckled as he put his tricorner hat onto his head and walked towards the door. "Who else could I be?" he asked.

…

Nora sipped on her bourbon as she listened to Codsworth explain the new security additions in Sanctuary. "Preston and Sturges installed six new turrets overlooking the main street and two in the fields behind the house where the workshop is located." Nora was glad that they beefed up security. When she left, they only had one working turret and a few wooden lookout positions. That would be insufficient to protect them in the long term. Having more turrets would make intelligent enemies think twice about bothering them.

"How's the scavenging going?" Nora asked, "Find anything interesting?" Codsworth beeped excitedly. "Now that you mention it, I have a gift for you," Codsworth told her, "I found this holotape under some rubble while I was cleaning the house recently. Its data compartment is completely full…"

Before Codsworth could finish, Nora quickly grabbed the holotape and put it into her pip boy. "Please be what I think you are…" she said hopefully as the pip boy loaded the holotape. Nora took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. If it was what she thought it was, tonight was about to get a hell of a lot better. After several seconds, the pip boy's screen flashed, indicating that it was done loading.

"Oh my god…" Nora squealed as she scrolled through the content, "It's all here!" Nora couldn't believe her luck. "What is it, Miss Nora?" Codsworth asked curiously. Nora's green eyes were lit up like fireworks. "It's mine and Nate's entire combined music and movie collection! Most of this hasn't been seen or heard in over 200 years..."

Whitechapel Charlie, the robot bartender who had been listening to the entire conversation, chimed in from behind the bar. "Magnolia is done for the night," he told them, "and if I have to listen to that wanker stutter and whine on Diamond City radio one more time, I'm gonna start my self-destruct sequence and throw myself off the overpass..."

"Oh, please don't do that, Charlie," Magnolia said with a pretty smile, "I'd miss you…" Magnolia giggled as she reached out and stroked the side of Charlie's metal casing lovingly. Charlie's gray lights flashed bright green for just a moment before turning back gray. Magnolia then spoke to Nora. "If you have other music," Magnolia said, "especially dance music, you should share it."

Nora smiled mischievously. "Let me pick a playlist real quick," she said as she scrolled through her and Nate's playlists. The music on her holotape was arranged by the decade. Everyone from their time was obsessed with the 1940-1960's. The music, the fashion, the values – it was the greatest generation, or so they called it. And they weren't entirely wrong. Drive-in movie theaters, milkshake cafes, big-bodied colorful cars, swing dance clubs, live big band music, jazz cafes, Billie Holiday, Elvis – that era was full of fun and exciting things that lived on in their society until the bombs fell in 2077.

While she and Nate enjoyed that era immensely, they felt that they resonated more with the grunge and electronica of the 1980s. They loved comic books, punk rock, arcades, laser tag, skate/hover-boarding, big hair, converses, and loud defiance to authority. Nora smiled as she looked at one of their old 80's playlists. "Hey, Codsworth," Nora asked, "Do you think you can play this?" Codsworth took the holotape and inserted it into his mainframe. The holotape was old but in surprisingly good condition. "Of course," Codsworth said happily as he connected to the speakers in the Third Rail.

In a few moments, the Third Rail was filled with the glorious sound of 1980's pop music. Magnolia's eyes widened as she listened. "This music is… unique… but fun!" She and Nora giggled as they took another shot of bourbon. Several minutes passed and her 1980's playlist continued to play. Some of the more intoxicated drifters in the Rail were dancing on the floor in front of the stage. Magnolia went to join them. Nora wanted to dance as well, but she didn't want to injure her shoulder by accidently bumping into someone. Her shoulder was mostly healed and felt a lot better, but she wanted to make sure it was completely healed this time before she did anything crazy.

Nora was sipping her bourbon when she felt a familiar hand rest gently on her uninjured shoulder. "Hey, you," Hancock said warmly as he sat on the empty barstool next to her, "Sorry I'm so late getting here… mayoral duties." Nora grabbed him a clean glass from behind the bar and filled it rather full with bourbon. "No worries, but you have some catching up to do," she told him with a playful wink. Hancock grinned. "I can do that," he said as he finished his first drink and poured himself another.

"So, what is this music?" Hancock asked curiously, looking around the room, "It's funky and weird – I can totally relate."

"It's a collection of pop music from the 1980's," Nora explained. "Whoa!" Hancock said wide-eyed, "1980s? This is some antique shit. Where'd you find this?" Nora chuckled. Hancock had such a good-natured, easy-going way about him. "See that Mr. Handy near the stage?" Nora said pointing discreetly, "That's Codsworth. He's my family's personal robot. He found a holotape with all of this music on it in the rubble around our old home and gave it to me."

"That's a great find," Hancock said. "Right?" Nora replied, "It also has a ton of old movies on it. It must be one of the back-up holotapes I made of my music and movie collection before the bombs fell…"

"Wait," Hancock said raising a hairless brow, "You're pre-war? You look well preserved for being over 200 years old. C'mon, you can tell me. What's your secret?"

Nora laughed. "There's no secret," she told him, "I was in Vault 111. It was some kind of cryogenic storage facility. My family and I went there when the bombs fell. We were put on ice…" She trailed off towards the end. Hancock knew why and hated to push the issue. "This topic seems to be uncomfortable for you," Hancock said gently, " You don't have to say anything else about it if you don't want to. We're here to have a good time, right?"

He pulled a box of Berry Mentats out of his pocket and offered her one. "It'll brighten up the room a bit," he told her with a wink. Nora took one and put it in her mouth. "It's been awhile since I've had one of these," Nora said fondly, "Mentats, Daytripper, and Calm-ex are the only reasons I made it through Law School in one piece."

"You were a lawyer?" Hancock asked, somewhat surprised, "Sounds like a tough career path." Nora nodded grimly. "Yeah, it was rough," she told him, "I started off as a prosecutor but then quickly moved into doing family law – like divorces, writing people's wills, doing the closings for real estate purchases, and that sort of boring thing. I was glad to get out when I did."

Hancock took another swig of bourbon. "You must have an interesting perspective of the world now, especially after being on ice for 200 years," Hancock said, "A lot of pre-war ghouls can't handle the changes. They are stuck living in the past and can't seem to move forward. Its sad really, but you don't seem to have the same problem."

Nora poured herself another bourbon. "It isn't easy to see the state of the world now, especially when you enjoyed the world that it was before," Nora told him. Her green eyes rested softly on his. "But, honestly, I can't help but be surprised by how resilient the people here are," Nora said calmly, "They are the remnants of a great civilization that was entirely reliant on technology. Children were basically born with supercomputers in hand. Technology provided for all of our basic needs and we wanted for nothing. Now, that technology is gone. Many would expect the people to simply die off for lacking survival skills. Yet, people are still here – surviving, fighting, striving to make a home out of all this chaos and destruction. I think its hella inspiring and it gives me hope for the future."

That was not the answer Hancock expected, but he liked it nonetheless. She was articulate and had a beautiful mind – she was able to see the beauty in chaos. Where most would look at the world now, its utter destruction and violence, and give up on mankind completely, Nora didn't. She found hope in unlikely places. She viewed mankind's resiliency in the face of atomic disaster like a tiny green shoot rising from the ashes of a burned forest. There was still hope that a new world could be forged from the ashes of the old one.

"That's a positive way to look at things," Hancock said softly. He had a hard time staying positive himself so he found her perspective to be refreshing. Nora took another sip of her bourbon. "Positivity is all I've got right now, so I'm holding onto it," Nora said with a small smile. "That's fair," Hancock said pulling out a pack of cigarettes, "So, if you don't mind me asking, how did you end up here in Goodneighbor?

Nora giggled. "That's a long story," she told him. Hancock poured her another glass before pouring himself one. "I've got all night," he said with a charming smile.

…

Bobbi No-Nose sat comfortably at a small table at the back of the Third Rail close to the stairs. Her informants told her that the Vault Girl was sitting at the bar alone, but she obviously had not made it here in time. Vault Girl was sitting with Hancock at the bar and they seemed to be deep in conversation. Bobbi tried to listen in, but this robot near the stage was playing loud music which interfered with her ability to eavesdrop.

Despite the noise, Bobbi was able to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation: something about raiders, a minigun, and a sanctuary. Bobbi sighed with irritation – she had hoped to speak to the Vault Girl before Hancock got to her and corrupted her with his damnable charm. But perhaps all was not lost. She would try to speak with Vault Girl in the near future and see if she could still be useful in her revenge against Hancock.

Then, Bobbi had a great idea. Vault Girl could be useful in her revenge against Hancock whether she knew the truth of it or not. Bobbi smiled. She'd have to think up a convincing story – make Vault Girl think she was doing something good, but in reality have her steal from Hancock. She'd have to think this plan through carefully. She didn't want Vault Girl getting suspicious and figuring out what she was really up to. She'd worked too hard to have her plans fall apart. Bobbi stood up and walked out of the Third Rail. Tonight hadn't been a complete waste after all. She had some scheming to do.

…

"And then I reached over and grabbed the minigun and started filling that death lizard full of holes!" Nora recounted excitedly. "Holy shit!" Hancock said, "That's badass! Taking on Deathclaws and raiders – You're one tough girl! Damn, and here I was thinking you needed help with Finn… After a deathclaw, Finn's ass wouldn't be anything you couldn't handle."

"Well," Nora said with humility and mild sheepishness, "I wasn't in power armor with Finn, nor did I have my minigun. All I had was a bum shoulder, severe blood loss, and a combat knife…" She leaned over closer to Hancock, intertwined her elbow with his, and laid her head gently on his shoulder. "I'm really glad you decided to save my ass," she said warmly looking up at him. "Me too," Hancock admitted. They enjoyed each other's warmth for a few seconds. This felt good, Hancock thought. He liked being this close to her. It felt just like in his visions… After a few seconds passed, Nora leaned back over into her original sitting position. Grabbing the nearly empty bottle of bourbon, she filled their glasses once more.

"So, what happened next," Hancock asked curiously, "After you made Swiss cheese outta that deathclaw?"

"I was in pretty rough shape and the power armor was badly damaged," Nora said, "Preston bandaged me up as best he could and we all walked to Sanctuary together. Luckily Codsworth has medical training. Then we spent the next few days building up Sanctuary and making it livable. We built a water purifier, a power grid, some makeshift defenses, and planted some crops."

"That is real living," Hancock said as he put out his cigarette into the dirty ashtray on the bar, "Most people don't know what its like to live in a settlement like that. They're too damn comfortable here in the city to venture out into the wilderness. I wouldn't mind visiting some of these places someday to see how people live."

"Well, Codsworth tells me that they're beefing up defenses and getting more houses on the power grid we built," Nora told him happily, "It's going to be an awesome place to live soon. You should come visit if you get a chance. You'll always be welcome in Sanctuary."

Hancock offered Nora a cigarette and she accepted. He held the flame for her so she could light it. He then lit his own cigarette. "That sounds nice," Hancock said as he exhaled a puff of smoke into the air like a small dragon. "You know, I was thinking about something Preston said," Nora began as she took a sip of her bourbon. Hancock noticed her mood darken slightly. "What is your opinion of the Minutemen?" she asked, "Preston wants to build them up again…"

"I like the idea of protecting the people at a minute's notice," Hancock told her, "Settlers have a lot of enemies – raiders, supermutants, wildlife, gunners – but most people are hesitant to back the Minutemen again after what happened in Quincy. That was bad news…" Nora looked down at her half-empty cup. "Yeah, that is the general consensus I've gotten from others I've asked," she said, "But Preston seems to be hell-bent on getting the Minutemen up and running again… and he wants me to lead them."

Hancock's eyes widened slightly. Before Quincy, the Minutemen were highly regarded in the Commonwealth. To be considered for a leadership position with them was a big deal. They only took people of the highest moral character… Nora paused as she took a few drags from her cigarette. "He seems to think I'm the right person for the job," Nora continued quietly, her eyebrows furrowing slightly, "But I don't see what he sees. I don't think I'm really the leader type. Why would anyone want to follow me, a vault dweller? What do I know about life in the Commonwealth? Why would they trust me to take care of them and protect them when I can barely take care of myself?"

Hancock could relate. He felt anxious sometimes too about his position in Goodneighbor. It was a big responsibility and a lot of stress, but it was absolutely worth it. He smiled – a part of him was glad that he wasn't alone in feeling that way.

He reached over and put his hand on her uninjured shoulder. "For the record, I think you would make a great leader," Hancock told her truthfully, "From what I've seen and heard, you've got a lot of qualities that good leaders need."

Nora didn't seem convinced. "What qualities are those?" Nora asked. Hancock didn't skip a beat in his response. "First," Hancock told her, "You see the best in people. You treat people equally and with kindness. That goes a long way. Second, you've got a lot of spirit. You don't take shit from bullies, you help people without thinking of reward, and you are kind to those around you. Third, you don't discriminate – you don't seem to have a problem with people who are different. You'd be surprised how rare that is. And finally, you see the world for what it is, what is was, and what it could be. That kind of vision is exactly what the Commonwealth needs. The common people have been beaten down so hard. They need something inspirational to work towards, a better future to build. You have all of that. I have to agree with Preston, you'd be a great leader, if that is what you decided to do."

Nora looked at him with a hopeful, yet mildly skeptical expression on her face. "Do you really mean that or are you just being nice to me?" she asked. Hancock chuckled and leaned his head towards her slightly. "One thing you'll learn about me is that I don't say things that aren't true. You'd do a great job if you worked hard and decided you wanted to take on that kind of responsibility."

Nora took another swig of her bourbon and put out her cigarette. "How do you handle the stress and responsibility that comes with running a settlement like Goodneighbor?" she asked, "It must be difficult sometimes."

"Heh, that's an understatement," Hancock said, "You need a good information network – people you trust to give you news about the main players and settlements in the Commonwealth and beyond. You also need a good second-in-command to keep you on task. And, most importantly, you need to have a personal reason to serve. For me, I love the people of Goodneighbor – they're all freaks and misfits and I love them for it. I work hard to protect them so they can have a place to belong, to call home. If I wasn't the mayor, some other jerkoff with an ego and a violent streak would come in here and take the place over. I wouldn't be happy knowing that the people I love were in danger, so I stay where I'm at. Even when it's hard…"

Nora smiled at him. "That's very noble, selfless, and mature of you," she said as she slid her hand on top of his, "The people of this town have a lot to be thankful for." Hancock chuckled as he intertwined his fingers with hers. Her hands were exactly as he remembered from his visions – small, soft, warm. All that lacked was a ring… But he was getting way ahead of himself…

Or was he? He was getting vibes from her that said she was interested in him. With any other girl, he would have at least gone in for a kiss by now. But with Nora, he was terrified of being too pushy. No, he would be cool and let her come to him. She would control the speed of things in their relationship. This is the way.

All of a sudden, Hancock felt the earth shake and dust began to fall from the ceiling. Nora's eyes widened. "What's going on?" A loud alarm began to ring and people began to panic. "Fuck," Hancock growled, "It's an attack!" He pulled a small .44 pistol from his coat pocket. "Here, take this," he said placing the gun into Nora's hands, "Get somewhere safe and don't come out until the alarm goes off. I've gotta go." Before she could say anything, Hancock took off up the stairs.

Codsworth gravitated over to her and grabbed her bag. "Ms. Nora, we should get out of here," he said with concern. Nora didn't argue. When they made it outside, Nora realized that supermutants were attempting to storm the walls. She could hear the loud thumps of their giant feet and the guttural growls from their mutant hounds. She didn't see any supermutants within the walls yet, but Goodneighbor needed all the help it could get.

She and Codsworth made their way to her room in the Hotel Rexford. Nora was starting to hear the sickening sound of gunshots, grenades, and screaming outside her window. Despite her weakened shoulder, she could not stand to sit there in safety while others were out there fighting.

"Codsworth," Nora said, "help me get this armor on." Codsworth reluctantly complied. "You can't be serious…" he whined. "I can't let them die while I just sit here…" Nora said, "I have to help." Once her armor was on, she put armor on Dogmeat and headed downstairs towards the fight that was raging outside.

Directly outside the Rexford, Nora quickly looked around. Children and the elderly huddled in the corners of the town trying to find a defensible position. Most of the buildings were locked when the alarm went off and there weren't many places to hide. She also saw several Supermutants attempting to force their way through the junk fence between the Old Statehouse and the Hotel Rexford. If that wall fell, all of Goodneighbor would be flooded with Supermutants in a matter of seconds. They'd be overwhelmed and slaughtered. That wall had to stand.

"Dogmeat! With me!" Nora shouted, "Codsworth, turn off your combat inhibitors and go protect those kids and old people. You're their only hope if this wall falls!" Codsworth beeped affirmatively and went to protect Goodneighbor's more vulnerable population. Nora and Dogmeat ran towards the wall.

With her good arm, Nora hoisted Dogmeat onto a ledge at the top of the wall. Dogmeat jumped over the edge and started tearing into the Supermutants below. Nora could hear them yelling as Dogmeat sank his teeth into them. Nora quickly ascended the wall and began to shoot at the Supermutants closest to her position. She killed one, maybe two, before they saw her and began to open fire.

Getting behind cover, she put her gun down and reached into her bag. Feeling a few frag grenades, she pulled the pins with her teeth and threw several down the wall at the Supermutants. After the explosions subsided, she leaned around her cover and looked to see if any were still alive. She saw one running towards her and another that Dogmeat currently had pinned to the ground.

She picked up her gun and shot the knee of the Supermutant running towards her, effectively crippling him. Dogmeat would take care of him now that he couldn't run. Seeing no other enemies that were immediately concerning, Nora jumped down off of the wall and made her way to the front gate. That's where the bulk of the fighting was.

The front gate was still holding strong. Hancock and a red-headed woman were at the top of the wall with miniguns. The Neighborhood Watch were spread out along the wall with their submachine guns. Bullets and empty shells were flying everywhere. Nora moved out of the way as several of the Neighborhood Watchmen ran behind her towards the wall she just left. Nora saw an open position on the corner of the wall touching the Old Statehouse.

She quickly scaled the junk fence and gasped when she saw the bulk of the Supermutant hoard. There had to be at least 50 of them, not including their hounds. The citizens of Goodneighbor were greatly outnumbered and outgunned. It didn't look good for them. A bullet barely grazed Nora's left cheek, reminding her that she was not behind cover. She ducked down and began to pick off the Supermutants closest to the wall.

She killed four or five of them when she felt the wall shake. Looking over towards her left, she saw that several Supermutants found a gap in the defenses and were starting to climb over the wall. That was not good. Nora jumped down and took off towards where the Supermutants were invading. When she was within 20 feet or so, she lifted her gun, aimed, and started firing. She picked off the ones closest to her first and then started firing at those still climbing over the wall.

When her 10mm pistol ran out of ammo, she reached down and grabbed a submachine gun from a dead Neighborhood Watchman. This gun was heavy and would require the use of both hands. Nora winced in slight discomfort as she lifted the gun into a level position. Her weak shoulder did not like holding the weight of this gun, but Nora had no choice: she could either pick up this gun and fight or she could die.

With a deep breath, Nora began to fire the submachine gun at the Supermutants who breached the wall. The recoil and vibrations from the submachine gun caused her shoulder intense pain, but it was also satisfying to watch the Supermutants fall. She continued picking off Supermutants one by one until the submachine gun ran out of ammo. Looking around, Nora saw an automatic pipe pistol about 15 feet away. As she ran towards it, something large hit her ankle causing her to fall.

Looking up, Nora watched as a large Supermutant laughed and raised a spiked board over her head. "Bleed, little human," the supermutant roared, Meet your death!" Nora scoffed. "Not today!" she yelled, pulling Hancock's .44 pistol from her pocket. She shot the supermutant twice in the face and he fell into a crumpled heap. Quickly getting back on her feet, Nora picked up the automatic pipe pistol and turned to see where she thought she could be most useful.

Hancock and the red-headed woman were still firing their miniguns over the wall. The Supermutants managed to breach the wall in two places, but were being held off by Neighborhood Watchmen and other citizens of Goodneighbor. Nora quickly scaled the wall and looked to see what remained of the Supermutant hoard.

In the distance, Nora saw the leader of the supermutant hoard show himself. He was at least three feet taller than the average supermutant and was carrying the mother of all weapons – a customized Fat Man that appeared to house not one, not two, but three mini nukes. That weapon would be devastating to everyone fighting on the wall. One blast, three mini nukes, and they'd all be dead. And in the hands of a supermutant, that weapon was likely to be used… liberally. Supermutants didn't seem to care who they killed as long as they got what they wanted.

Nora took a deep breath. No one else seemed to notice the mother of all weapons near the Supermutant Leader, but she did. She knew that what she was about to do was the purest form of crazy, but she couldn't let her new friends die. She had plenty of ammo for the pipe pistol and still had four rounds in the .44 revolver pistol Hancock gave her. It wasn't good odds, but it would have to do. With her mind made up, Nora jumped over the wall and took off towards the Supermutant Leader.

She jumped over the bodies of fallen Supermutants and swiftly dodged several melee attacks. When she got as close as she thought was prudent, she ducked behind a large green dumpster. Grabbing the last few frag grenades out of her bag, she pulled the pins and lobbed them towards the Leader one by one. She could see that they damaged him, but not enough to cripple him. With no more grenades, she'd have to try a more direct approach.

Jumping out from behind the garbage can, she aimed her automatic pipe pistol at the leader and began to fire. The Supermutant leader seemed annoyed by her attacks, but moderately impressed that she had the balls to fight him directly. "Come and face me, little bleeder!" the Leader roared, "Come and meet your death!" He picked up the Fat Man and aimed at her position.

"Shit!" Nora squealed as she took off towards the nearest building. She could hear the whistle of the mini nukes as they were launched. Hopefully she'd make it to cover in time… When she got close enough to the building, she dove behind it. The mini nukes collided with the building next to hers with a loud bang. She was far away enough from the explosion to miss most of the physical damage, but her sight and hearing were impaired.

Pushing some of the debris from the explosion off of her, Nora managed to get into a sitting position. The street was spinning and all she could hear was a high pitched ringing sound in her ears. She grabbed two stimpaks and injected them into her leg. They began to work quickly. She sat for a few more seconds allowing herself time to readjust.

As she began to stand up, she felt a large metal hand on her uninjured shoulder forcefully pick her up and turn her around. "Sturges?" she asked incredulously. She must have hit her head really hard. He was wearing the power armor she wore in Concord. He was trying to say something to her but she couldn't hear him over the ringing in her ears. She looked behind him and saw Preston and a contingent of what appeared to be Minutemen.

"We need your help!" Nora yelled to them. Before they could respond, she took off running around the corner. She pulled out her pipe pistol and began firing on the Supermutant Leader again. Despite her impaired hearing, she could see bursts of red light coming from behind her. The Minutemen were helping her fight! Goodneighbor stood a better chance of survival now that they had a few extra guns!

She felt a hand on her shoulder once again. Sturges roughly pushed her towards the power armor and mouthed the words "GET IN!" She didn't argue with that. Hopping into the power armor, Nora picked up the minigun Sturges had equipped and began firing it at the Leader. She needed to get that modified Fat Man away from him as soon as possible before he decided to fire that thing at the wall.

With the Minutemen acting as covering fire, Nora ran towards the Leader and began filling him with 5mm bullets. But this was no ordinary Supermutant – his skin was like that of the deathclaw – thick and impenetrable. Nora felt slight disappointment that her weapon wasn't doing more damage, but that wouldn't stop her. Distraction would have to be her strategy for now. The Leader moved over towards the Fat Man again. Even in power armor, Nora knew that she couldn't take a direct hit from that monstrosity of a weapon.

She threw her minigun at the supermutant leader, knocking him off balance. Nora then ran and lunged at him, throwing him to the ground. He roared with anger and began bludgeoning her power armor with his fists. Nora didn't hold back either. She wrestled with him and did her best to damage him. As they wrestled, she saw what appeared to be switchblade nearby. That would be more useful at damaging him than her bare hands.

Using both of her fists, she hit the supermutant leader in the face with enough force to stun him momentarily. As he regained himself, she quickly grabbed the switchblade and lunged at him again. They rolled backwards and she found herself in a dominant position. She began to stab whatever parts of him she could. The blade cut shallow wounds – it was not enough to seriously damage this supermutant.

The modified fat man was still out of reach. Nora needed to make sure that the supermutant leader could not use that weapon against Goodneighbor. She had an idea, but it was grisly. Wrapping her hand around the supermutant's neck, Nora aimed the switchblade for his eyes. If he couldn't see, he couldn't use that weapon.

After the grisly deed was done, Nora pushed the Leader down a small set of stairs. He was still alive but no longer a threat. She ran over and grabbed the modified Fat Man. Without thought or hesitation, Nora disabled the weapon by stomping on it with her power armor. A weapon that powerful didn't need to exist. In the wrong hands, that weapon could do a lot of harm. Nora felt that its usefulness was greatly outweighed by its potential for misuse.

The Supermutant hoard didn't seem to care that their leader had been crippled. They continued to attack Goodneighbor relentlessly. She pulled out her automatic pipe pistol again and started shooting at a pack of mutant hounds coming her way. When the mutant hounds got close to her, she heard Dogmeat let out a guttural growl next to her. He was covered in blood and dirt, but that good boy was still kicking. "Let's get them!" Nora yelled as she and Dogmeat took on the hounds. One of them lunged at her uninjured arm and bit a chunk of metal off of her power armor. Those things were mean and strong.

Nora continued firing, taking out one at a time until they were all dead. She looked around and tried to see where everyone was. The Minutemen joined forces with the Neighborhood Watch and took positions on the wall. Nora could see bursts of red light along with submachine gun fire. She was glad that they decided to help.

Starting to feel exhausted from all of her exertion, Nora hoped that this battle would be over soon. She didn't have much more fight left in her. As she made her way back towards Goodneighbor, she saw the redheaded woman from earlier taking on several supermutants at a time. It looked like she was getting overwhelmed, so Nora ran over to join her.

Pulling out her automatic pipe pistol, Nora started firing at the supermutants closest to the redheaded woman. Noticing her aid, the redheaded woman sprinted towards her. They stood back to back as a pack of supermutants encircled them. "For Goodneighbor!" the redheaded woman yelled as she opened fire. Nora followed suit and for awhile they were able to hold off the supermutants surrounding them.

Unfortunately for them, guns don't have unlimited ammo. Nora ran out of ammo first. Pulling out her trusty switchblade, she lunged towards the mutants closest to her and began stabbing them. It wasn't the best melee weapon, but it was all she had. As she stabbed and swiped at supermutants, she heard a pained yelp from behind her. The redheaded woman had taken a direct hit by a supermutant's spiked board. Nora turned and tried to assist, but there were too many supermutants in her way. Nora watched as the supermutant raised his spiked board again and again. There was a lot of blood.

Nora saw several bursts of red light hit the supermutants around them. Preston ran up to her in an offensive position and began taking out supermutants. He threw her a loaded 10mm pistol and a stimpak. Nora grabbed both and fought her way towards where she last saw the redheaded woman.

With covering fire from the Minutemen, Nora was able to find the redheaded woman. She was in bad shape. Assessing her wounds, Nora saw that she had taken many bullets and was bleeding profusely from where the spiked board hit her. She wouldn't last long without medical care. Nora injected the redheaded woman with several stimpaks and a container of Med-X.

Scooping the woman up into her arms, Nora yelled at Preston to cover her as she made her way back into Goodneighbor. The fighting was mostly done at this point, but there were still a few stragglers. Nora couldn't fight and carry the woman. The Minutemen attacked the supermutants and mutant hounds that got in her way as she ran towards Goodneighbor.

When Nora stepped into the gate, she looked down at the woman in her arms. The woman was unnaturally pale and covered in blood. Nora pushed her way through the debris and bodies towards the Memory Den, where she was relieved to see Doctor Amari treating the wounded.

"Doctor Amari!" Nora yelled as she ran up, "This woman needs serious help!" Nora placed the woman onto a makeshift hospital bed and moved out of the way so Doctor Amari and her team could begin treating her. It was a dire situation and every second counted.

Nora stepped out of the medical tent and looked around. The fight seemed to be over. Neighborhood Watchmen were repairing the wall in case more supermutants showed up. Citizens of Goodneighbor were helping each other move bodies outside the wall and clean up the debris that littered the town. The Minutemen were providing purified water and simple medical supplies to those who needed it. They weren't doctors, but, like Preston, they knew basic first aid.

Nora saw Sturges trying to help one of the Watchmen lift a heavy piece of metal that fell off of the wall. "Hey, Sturges," Nora called, "You can have this back now." Nora got out of her power armor and Sturges took her place. "Thanks for saving my ass earlier," Nora told him, "I couldn't have taken on that supermutant leader without this fine piece of equipment. You did a great job repairing it!" Sturges laughed. "I tried," he said, "but let me help them get this wall back in working order. I think Preston wanted to talk to you. Something bad has happened in Sanctuary…"

As Sturges ran back to the wall, Nora looked around again. She saw a lot of familiar faces, but didn't see the person she most wanted to see. It had been quite some time since she had seen Hancock. Nora gently placed her hand on the wooden grip of Hancock's .44 pistol which was resting in her pocket. When she touched that weapon, she thought of its previous owner and felt a surge of warmth at her core.

When Hancock gave her that weapon, he knew there was an attack going on outside. He knew that he was in danger just as much as she was. But, instead of keeping this gun for his own protection, he gave it to her. He didn't even have to think about it. In that moment of fear and panic and danger, he wasn't thinking about himself. No, he was thinking about her. He was more concerned with her safety than his own. She felt a surge of emotion as tears began to form in her green eyes. This was the second time that he protected her at great personal cost.

Nora had to find him and make sure that he was okay. Even though she had just met Hancock, she felt something in her chest when she thought of him. There was just something about him that made her feel safe, warm, and understood. Despite his rough and rowdy exterior, when he was with her he was surprisingly gentle and kind…

As Nora looked around town, she saw no trace of him. She looked under debris and inside buildings. She even walked outside the wall trying to find him. Her eyes searched high and low for that red frock coat and tricorner hat… But he seemed to be nowhere. Was he dead? Nora felt herself start to panic. Her breathing was becoming strained and shallow. Her heart was beating wildly in her ears. He couldn't be dead. She was just starting to get to know him…

She made her way back over towards the front gate. It was then that she saw a flash of red as the door of the Old Statehouse opened. It was Hancock! He was clutching his ribcage as he limped down the alley. Nora felt relief wash over her as she made her way towards him. "Hancock," Nora called, "Are you okay?"

He stopped and turned his head. "I'm alright," he whispered, "what about you?" Nora wrapped her arm around him to provide support. "I'm okay, but you look like you need a doctor…" Nora said gently as she assessed his condition. He was covered in bruises, blood, and cuts, but he was still standing. "I need to ask a favor of you," Hancock said wearily, "I can't find my daughter, Fahrenheit. I need you to go look for her. She's got bright red hair – you can't miss her…"

Nora felt a deep sense of dread as she realized that the redheaded woman she carried earlier must have been Fahrenheit. "I saw a redheaded woman at Doctor Amari's," Nora said gently as she looked at her feet. Hancock's eyes widened. "C'mon," he said, "lets go." They hobbled over towards Doctor Amari's medical tent. Nora was silently praying to whatever gods were listening. She really hoped that Fahrenheit's condition was not as bad as she thought it was.

Entering the medical tent, Hancock stopped and stared helplessly as Doctor Amari and a group of other medical professionals were trying to stabilize Fahrenheit. She had taken a lot of damage and lost a lot of blood. Nora looked over at Hancock. Seeing his child in that dire condition was not easy for him. She could see excruciating pain marring his face and tears forming in his black eyes. He let go of her and hobbled over to where Fahrenheit was laying. Sitting in an empty chair next to the bed, he took Fahrenheit's limp hand into his own and placed his head on the corner of her bed.

Nora could feel tears forming in her own eyes. She knew exactly what it felt like to stand helplessly as loved ones were injured. Her heart was breaking for Hancock. The possibility of losing a child is not something that a parent should ever have to go through, especially not alone.

Nora walked over to where Hancock was sitting and took the empty chair to his right. His breathing was shaky and she could tell that he was crying profusely. She gently wrapped her left arm around him. "I'm so sorry," Nora whispered, "I know what it feels like to see someone you love in pain… I also know what it feels like… to lose a child... I'm here for you..."

Doctor Amari sighed heavily and wiped sweat from her brow. "I've done all I can do, Hancock," she told them, "I'll be monitoring her closely throughout the night, but I can't promise anything. Her wounds are extensive…" With that, Doctor Amari began tending to others who were injured.

Nora leaned her head on Hancock's right shoulder and closed her eyes. She wanted to take the pain away from him. She was well acquainted with that kind of soul-crushing, debilitating pain and didn't want anyone else to suffer through it. As they sat in silence, listening to the chaos and panic around them, Hancock lifted his head. "Thank you," he whispered turning towards Nora, his face full of panic and despair, "I just want her to be okay…" His voice trailed off towards the end as he began to cry uncontrollably.

Nora couldn't take it anymore. She wrapped her arms around him and held his head close to her heart. He wrapped his arms around her as well as his sobbing intensified. "Everything is gonna be okay," Nora whispered to him, "Your daughter is a fighter. I watched her kick so much supermutant ass earlier. She's not gonna give up and neither should we." Nora felt Hancock nod, but they both knew that the future was uncertain. It was going to be a very long night.

…


	12. Chapter 10: Black Coffee

You Go To My Head

Chapter 10: Black Coffee

…

Hancock sat on a cold metal fold-out chair inside the makeshift medical tent. His eyes were closed and he was trying to focus on his breathing. It was a technique he learned to calm himself down in stressful situations. But now, when he really needed to chill the fuck out, it didn't seem to be working. His body and mind was in a state of overdrive – adrenaline was coursing wildly through his veins and he was unable to rest or relax.

He could not believe what had happened in the last few hours. It felt surreal. Goodneighbor barely survived a Super Mutant attack. It was the worst one yet – both in terms of damage and intensity. Those rat bastards came out of nowhere and Goodneighbor had little time to prepare. Had the Minutemen not miraculously shown up when they did to offer support, Hancock was certain that Goodneighbor would have fallen to the Supermutants.

As he thought about the attack, a few troubling things came to his mind. First, the Supermutants who attacked them were not regular Supermutants: these were surprisingly organized and well-armed. They took orders from a leader and had a predetermined plan of attack. It felt like he was fighting Raiders or Gunners, not Supermutants.

The thought of intelligent Supermutants made him nervous. Supermutants already had several biological advantages over humans and ghouls; they were bigger, tougher, and stronger. The only reason that regular people stood a chance against Supermutants was because they were so fucking dumb.

But if Supermutants were as clever as they were strong, no one would stand a chance; they'd slaughter everyone. The loins of every Wastelander would decorate the landscape in a new Supermutant empire like garland or string lights. Their skin and muscles would make up the fabric of those nasty meat sacks that Supermutants like to have hanging up in their camps. Their bones would be used as toothpicks or chew toys for their ugly ass dogs and their blood would be likely be used to paint their kitchen walls. Hancock shuddered at those thoughts. That wasn't a reality he wanted to live in.

Hancock also found himself wondering what the Supermutants would do with the more – um – private – parts of human anatomy. He snorted as he imagined a chandelier of dangly bits hanging from the ceiling and an assortment of taxidermied butt cheeks on plaques as wall decorations. He wasn't an expert on Supermutant décor, but his childish visions definitely weren't outside the realm of possibility. He shook his head and sighed deeply. His mind went to interesting places when he was exhausted but he needed some comedic relief to escape from his current hellish reality.

Back to his original thoughts – troubling things about the battle. He also thought that there was a conspicuous lack of forewarning before this attack. Normally, the Neighborhood Watch Scouts posted at various points outside of Goodneighbor would send word if they saw any threat heading towards town. But that didn't happen this time. Hancock had a gut feeling that something wasn't right; something was off about this but he couldn't figure out why.

He sighed as he rubbed his non-existent eyebrows. He was trying to remember who Fahrenheit had assigned to scouting duty that night. He thought it was Jim but couldn't remember because he dipped out early in the meeting that night. If Jim was on scouting duty, why did he not sound the alarm sooner? Hancock didn't want to accuse anyone of anything without just cause, but with Finn's mutinous gang still working within the walls of Goodneighbor, he felt that he had no choice but to investigate this closely. He needed answers.

He also needed to go outside and say something to calm and reassure the citizens of Goodneighbor. If he felt afraid and shaken by the attack, he could only imagine how they felt. Because of Fahrenheit, he hadn't gone outside to do any assessment of damages or injuries. Hancock sighed sadly as he wrestled with his emotions. A large part of him didn't want to leave the tent just yet.

He was afraid of two things. First, he was worried about Fahrenheit. He would not forgive himself if he left the tent and the worst should happen. He didn't want her to die alone and afraid wondering why her father abandoned her in her time of need. His stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought. Second, he was worried about what he would see and learn when he went outside. He knew that a lot of people he cared about were probably dead. But he also knew that those who died needed to be remembered for their commitment and sacrifice to Goodneighbor. This solemn duty was part of his job as Mayor. The dead would need proper funerals and he would personally see to it that their loved ones were supported financially and emotionally. Goodneighbor was his family and he intended to make sure that everyone was taken care of.

Hancock sighed again and rubbed his eyes with his blackened hands. Everyone expected him to be strong and positive right now but he didn't know where he was going to get the energy he needed to pull himself together. He was exhausted in every possible way and didn't know whether he could be the leader they needed or deserved right now. He was usually an upbeat and giving soul, but right now he felt like he had nothing left to give.

Hancock sat up and slowly looked at his daughter. When he saw her laying there pale and bloodied, his vision began to blur as tears filled his eyes again. He wept openly for his little Ladybug and didn't give a single fuck if people saw him raw and emotional like this. He was human and had emotions just like everyone else.

He couldn't bear the thought of losing his Ladybug. She was all he had in this world. It really hurt him to see her like this. He took several deep breaths and tried to focus on his breathing again. As he tried to clear his mind, all he could think of was the first time he saw Fahrenheit. It was almost dawn and he was pacing outside of the late Doctor Sun Sr.'s clinic in Diamond City. He had spent the last several hours listening to Lena's pained cries as she gave birth. Doctor Sun finally came outside and told him that he could go in now to see his wife and newborn daughter.

When he got downstairs, Lena handed him a small bundle of soft cloth. He remembered looking into the bundle and seeing that little face for the first time. His daughter looked a lot like he did – freckled with big gray eyes and tufts of unruly red hair. She was absolutely precious – she had his heart wrapped around her little fingers from the moment he first laid eyes on her.

Looking at her now, his heart ached. He wished that he could take all of her pain away. He sighed heavily. He was feeling so many intense, complex emotions right now – his body was reeling trying to contain them all. He felt physically sick, emotionally drained, and completely exhausted. But he was afraid to take his eyes off of Fahrenheit. She needed him right now and he had no intention of leaving her side until he knew that she was okay. His city was in shambles, but it could be rebuilt. His daughter, however, was irreplaceable. He decided that he would wait a little bit longer to see if her condition improved.

…

Nora stayed in the medical tent with Hancock for hours. After his initial panic attack, Hancock turned his attention to his daughter. Once Nora made sure that Hancock was as okay as one could be in that situation, she backed off. She wanted to give him space to be with his daughter, but she didn't want him to be alone should the worst happen. Her heart ached, both for Hancock and herself. She really hoped that the worst wouldn't happen because she knew all too well how gut wrenching and painful it was to lose loved ones.

She stood just inside the door of the medical tent leaning against the outer wall of the Memory Den. She shifted uncomfortably and tried to ignore the rush of melancholy thoughts and emotions coursing through her. Losing Nate and Shaun nearly killed her – she could understand exactly what Hancock was probably feeling. But she had to suffer the loss of her husband and son alone. Nora wouldn't wish that pain on anyone, even her worst enemy. After unthawing, she spent hours in Vault 111 in a human puddle on the cold floor weeping.

She didn't want to live in a world where her husband and baby boy weren't there. Who would she share her life and experiences with? Who would she turn to when she needed love, support, or strength? With Nate, she finally felt like she had found her tribe, her true family. That is rare and she knew that she probably wouldn't ever find that again. And when Shaun was born, she couldn't contain her happiness. When she held Shaun in her arms for the first time at the hospital, she was already in love. Nothing compares to the love between a parent and child. Nora shook her head and tried to ignore the ghosts of her past, but it was difficult. This situation with Hancock dredged up feelings and memories she tried so hard to bury.

As she stood there watching Hancock at a distance, she heard familiar footsteps approaching from outside the tent. "Hey, Nora," Preston whispered as he stuck his head inside the tent, "I brought you guys some coffee. It's not much but I figured you both could use a little caffeine after the long night you've had." Nora nodded tiredly as Preston handed her two full cups. Preston looked over at Hancock for a moment and then back to Nora. "And I know that now isn't really a good time," Preston continued, "but we should talk soon. I'll be right outside the Hotel Rexford. The Minutemen have set up a first aid tent and will soon have a soup line ready."

"Thanks, Preston," Nora whispered appreciatively as she took a sip of the coffee, "For everything. I'll be out there in a little bit." After Preston left, Nora lingered in the doorway for a few moments because the last thing she wanted to do was invade Hancock's privacy. But after a sleepless night of drinking, fighting, and panicking, a cup of hot coffee was exactly what she needed. As the caffeine hit her system, she felt a renewed sense of strength and purpose. If it helped her, maybe it would help Hancock as well. He needed it way more than she did right now.

Nora walked slowly over to where Hancock was sitting and took the empty chair next to him. She quietly placed his coffee on a small square table between their chairs. Hancock didn't move initially. Leaning back into her chair, Nora took another sip of her coffee. She wanted to say something comforting or positive, to tell him that everything was going to be okay, but she knew deep down that there was no combination of words in any language that would make this situation less painful or traumatizing for him. Fahrenheit was still in critical condition and there was no way for them to know whether she was going to make it or not.

After a few moments of silence, Hancock finally leaned back. He took a very deep breath, held it in for a few seconds, and slowly exhaled. He repeated this motion several times. Nora could tell that he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. He was fraying at the edges, barely holding it together. His dark eyes were considerably duller than they had been at the Third Rail earlier; they lacked their usual mischievous twinkle. The lines on his face seemed deeper and more defined. The stress of the past few hours had also given him dark rings under his eyes. He looked like he had aged 15 years in the course of a few hours. Unfortunately, Nora was very familiar with that kind of exhaustion.

With a shaky hand, Hancock reached over and picked up the cup of coffee. He brought the cup to his lips and slowly took a few sips. When he was done, he put the coffee cup back on the table between them and wiped tears off of his face. He looked so fragile and lost. Nora wanted nothing more than to wrap him in a huge bear hug and hold him until this was all over. She was the type of person who gave hugs freely. They always made her feel better, but she hadn't determined whether Hancock was the kind of guy who would appreciate such a gesture.

A few moments later, Doctor Amari walked into the tent. She walked over to where Fahrenheit was laying and started typing on one of the machines. Hancock watched her intently as if trying to gauge her reaction, but her facial expressions were unreadable. She continued typing for a few more moments before checking the level of liquids in the IV bags.

"Do you think she's gonna make it, Doc?" Hancock asked with a shaky, hesitant voice. Doctor Amari straightened her glasses onto the bridge of her nose. "I think the worst of it has passed," she said matter-of-factly, "She is reacting well to the treatment, her numbers look decent, but we'll have to monitor her closely for the next few days. Her wounds are severe and we don't want infection setting in…" Hancock nodded as Doctor Amari abruptly left the tent.

"I guess that's good news?" Hancock asked as he turned to look at Nora. His black eyes seemed more hopeful than earlier. "I'd say so," Nora said warmly, "Doctor Amari isn't the type to sugar coat anything. If something was wrong, believe me, she'd let you know about it." Hancock chuckled sadly and took a swig of his coffee. "Yeah, her bedside manner is kinda like being smacked upside the head with a large club…"

Nora, who was mid-sip, snorted and coffee went into her nose. She ardently hoped that Hancock didn't see coffee starting to drip like snot from her nostrils. But his amused expression told her that he did indeed see her make an ass of herself. He began to chuckle softly as she took a napkin off of the table and wiped her nose with it. "Sorry about that," Hancock said with the same devilishly handsome grin he showed her at the Third Rail earlier.

Before he could say anything else, she turned around and pretended to look for something in the bag beside her chair. She was blushing and hoped that he wouldn't see it. Unlike some people, Nora had a hard time hiding her feelings. She was an open book. She'd have to work on her poker face if she was going to make it in the Commonwealth.

Doctor Amari came back into the tent, this time carrying a small vial of clear liquid and several large stimpaks. Hancock stood up and moved back as Doctor Amari injected Fahrenheit with the stimpaks simultaneously. She then placed the vial of clear liquid next to Fahrenheit's nose. After a few short seconds, Fahrenheit started coughing and rubbing her face. Hancock gasped softly and put his hands over his mouth. He looked incredibly happy to see his daughter awake.

"Can you hear me?" Doctor Amari asked. Fahrenheit grimaced and wiped her eyes as she looked around the room. "Yeah," Fahrenheit whispered weakly, "What happened? I was fighting a Supermutant and then - - everything went black. Is everyone okay?" Hancock approached the bed quickly and took Fahrenheit's hands into his own. "Everything's gonna be okay," he said as happy tears started building in his eyes, "I love you, Ladybug. I was so worried…" The corners of Fahrenheit's mouth curved upwards into a small smile. "You always worry too much, dad," she said wearily as she squeezed his hands gently, "It'll take a lot more than that to put me down."

Doctor Amari injected Fahrenheit's IV with a syringe full of clear liquid. In a matter of moments, Fahrenheit was asleep again. Hancock opened his mouth to protest, but Doctor Amari pulled rank. "Your daughter needs rest if she is to recover from her wounds," Doctor Amari said sternly, "I gave her a sedative, antibiotics, and pain medication. She should be resting for the next few hours, as should you." Hancock sighed and nodded. He was exhausted and knew that she was right.

Now that Nora knew that everything was going to be okay, she grabbed her bag next to the chair. "Are you gonna be okay?" Nora asked. Hancock nodded. "Thanks for being here with me," he said with a small smile, "It really means a lot… most people woulda left hours ago, but you stayed through it all. I really appreciate your company and…" Hancock looked down at the floor and Nora couldn't help herself. She walked up to Hancock and wrapped him in a big bear hug. He looked like he needed one.

When she wrapped her arms around him, she felt him do the same. She rested her head gently on the frilled collar of the bloodstained ivory shirt he was wearing and he buried his face in her hair. Something about being in his arms felt good – she felt comfortable and safe with him. She also really liked the smell of his cologne; it was faint but smelled of sandalwood and patchouli. After a few moments, she pulled away in attempts to avoid being weird. "So, um, I've got a few errands I need to run," she told him, "I'll see you around later?"

"Sounds good to me," Hancock said warmly, "I need a shower, like twelve boxes of fancy lads snack cakes, two shots of vodka, and a nap." Nora laughed. "That sounds nice," she grinned as she made her way to the door. When she got to the entrance of the tent, she paused for a second. "Oh, by the way," Nora continued as she turned to face Hancock once again, "I wanted to say thank you for lending me your pistol. It saved my ass out there."

She pulled the .44 revolver pistol from its holster and offered it back to its original owner. Hancock took the pistol and looked at it for a few seconds before offering it back to Nora. "Why don't you hang onto it a little while longer?" Hancock said softly, "This gun's gotten me through some really sticky situations. It'd make me happy to know you had a little extra firepower if those Supermutants decide they want to come back for round two." Nora smiled, took the gun, and put it back into the holster. "You're very thoughtful, Hancock," she commented, "Thank you." With that, Nora turned and exited the tent.

Hancock lingered for a few moments thinking about the events of the past few hours. It had been a wild ride, but one thing was certain. He really liked her and he was pretty sure that she liked him too. When he held her in his arms, it just felt right – like that space between his left and right shoulder was made specifically for her. He felt warm and tingly when he was close to her. He was hoping that with time their acquaintanceship would become friendship and eventually a romantic relationship. And, with the way things were developing, he felt more hopeful than ever that the visions he had would come true.

…


	13. Chapter 11: Brainstorm

You Go To My Head

Chapter 11: Brainstorm

…

After tossing and turning for several hours in her bed, Nora decided that getting decent rest was simply not going to happen. Her body was exhausted from overexertion, but her mind was wide awake. She had a lot to think about.

Prior to her unsuccessful attempt to sleep, Preston and Sturges told her about Mama Murphy's strange disappearance. Preston seemed convinced that Corvega Raiders were to blame, but he had no direct proof of their involvement – only 'a hunch.' Nora's lawyer brain refused to reach that kind of a conclusion based solely on mere assumptions. They needed proof that Corvega Raiders were to blame before she would take any action against them.

Nora reached across a snoring Dogmeat and opened the drawer to her nightstand. She pulled out an old Wilson Atomatoys souvenir pen and a small empty notebook, items she found while clearing debris in Goodneighbor. In the notebook, she drew a circle in the middle of the first page and wrote Mama Murphy's name in it. She drew small lines extending outwards from the central circle and began to brainstorm. She was a visual learner and this method of brainstorming worked best for her.

On the first line, she wrote down everything she knew about Mama Murphy, which honestly wasn't a whole lot. She was an old woman most recently from Quincy who enjoyed using chems in her spare time. Her favorite food was the Commonwealth's version of spaghetti – razorgrain noodles and boiled tatos – and her favorite drink was Nuka Cola Cherry. She was incredibly sharp and perceptive for her age. Nora had a feeling that Mama Murphy was some kind of empath or psychic because she always seemed to know a bit more than a normal person should about any given situation.

On the second line, Nora wrote down the essential points of what Preston and Sturges told her about Mama's disappearance. They last saw Mama around sundown standing in the river washing the dirt off of her. There was a structure fire of unknown origin in one of the houses at the end of the road. After putting the fire out, Mama was nowhere to be found. Those were the only facts that Nora felt were reliable. Both Preston and Sturges spent what felt like hours giving her their theories and ideas about what could have happened but that was all conjecture. Nora's mind was trained to seek the truth of the matter; speculation and hypotheticals were not helpful in that regard.

She drew a third line designated for conclusions or leads but could not think of anything to write. She needed more information. With mild irritation, Nora snapped the notebook shut and placed it in the back pocket of her gray sweatpants. She was worried about Mama Murphy, but felt like there wasn't really anything she could do in this situation.

The Commonwealth was a big place and much had changed since she had been put on ice over 210 years ago. How was she supposed to locate a missing person here? Back in her time, she would have gone to the police. She would have reached out to strangers on the internet. She would have placed ads in the newspaper and on television. But none of those networks or services existed anymore. If she was going to locate a missing person, she was going to have to think outside of the box.

To be honest, she didn't know where to even start looking, but Preston and Sturges were relying on her for help and support. The fact that they traveled so far to ask her for help should have given her a boost of confidence. But instead, she felt powerless, a feeling she hated from the core of her being. If she couldn't find Mama Murphy, how could she ever hope to find Shaun? How could she ever hope to avenge Nate?

She still had a lot of unhealed trauma and angst about Nate's murder and Shaun's kidnapping. She felt powerless in that situation as well. Nora felt angry tears forming in her eyes as she remembered how vulnerable she felt screaming and banging her fists on the cold metal door of the cryopod as strangers killed and stole what was most valuable to her. She remembered how that bald piece of shit smirked at her after putting a bullet in Nate's chest. Her blood was beginning to boil just thinking about it.

Before the bombs fell, her therapist would have suggested healthy ways to cope with pain and loss such as meditation, breathing exercises, or yoga. But rage was the only emotion that was keeping her alive right now; rage gave her the strength she needed to push forward in these hard times. Taking a deep breath, Nora closed her eyes and thought of the man who killed her husband. She remembered his face clearly in her mind – bald head, scar across the eye, and that goddamn smirk.

Nora allowed the rage to build inside of her chest. Rage would give her the energy and focus she needed to figure everything out. She would not give in. She would not give up. She just couldn't. Nate and Shaun deserved so much better than that…

Rising from her comfy spot on the bed, Nora decided that she needed to get some fresh air. She needed to come up with a plan to find Mama Murphy, Shaun, and Nate's murderer. She needed a place to think. Despite her smaller stature and lack of brute physical strength, Nora was incredibly intelligent and perceptive. She put herself through eight years of higher education at Massachusetts' most prestigious universities. If anyone could think their way through this sticky situation, it was her.

Grabbing an unopened pack of cigarettes and a lighter, she walked downstairs. In the lobby of the Rexford, she ran into the man she wanted to see. "Hey, Fred," Nora said cheerfully handing him a large bag of caps, "I want all the Mentats you've got on hand." Fred Allen's eyes widened as a goofy grin spread across his face. "Now that's the spirit, sister" Fred exclaimed happily, "I've got EXACTLY what you need." He placed his dirty pink duffle bag on the floor and began to rummage through its contents.

While Fred was busy digging through his bag, Nora starting thinking about places she could go for some peace and quiet. When she needed to study or think things through during her university years, she would go into the basement of the school's library where they rented out individual study rooms by the hour. The study rooms were cozy and simple, barely large enough for two people, a small desk, and two chairs. With the lack of distractions, Nora was able to focus and get her work done. She needed to find a space like that here in Goodneighbor.

Popping two red Mentats into her mouth, Nora walked outside into the cool night air. In the glow of the Hotel Rexford's warm neon lights, Nora leaned up against the wall and retrieved her pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of her worn leather jacket. She placed a cigarette between her lips, lit it, and began to smoke. As she smoked, she pulled out her little notebook and started looking at her brainstorm drawings again.

Looking at the third line she designated for conclusions or leads, Nora scribbled the words "Corvega Raiders?" and underlined it twice. Despite the lack of any evidence linking the Corvega Gang to Mama's disappearance, both Preston and Sturges seemed absolutely convinced that they did it. Nora sighed heavily thinking about the implications of this conclusion.

If the Corvega Raider Gang actually kidnapped Mama Murphy, then a rescue effort was necessary to free her from their base. But if the Raiders didn't kidnap Mama Murphy, feckless and unsubstantiated accusations could lead to serious conflict. And, despite the Minutemen's bravery in the fight for Goodneighbor, Nora knew that her little ragtag team of farmers and settlers didn't stand a chance against the ruthless, highly-organized, and well-armed Corvega Raider Gang. This situation needed to be handled delicately to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.

Assuming that the Corvega Raiders had Mama Murphy in their custody, there were several issues that came to Nora's mind that would make a rescue attempt difficult if not impossible. First, and most obviously, they would have to face the Corvega Raider Gang and live to tell the tale. Preston told her horror stories about these barbarians – it was enough to make her blood run cold. It was clear to her that her squad was at a serious disadvantage; it would be like fighting a deathclaw with a spoon.

Second, the Corvega Plant was enormous. It was built to assemble, manufacture, and store Corvega brand vehicles. As such, the plant took up a lot of space. It could take them hours to search the plant and Mama Murphy could be anywhere inside. As far as Nora knew, if they went into the plant now, they would be going in blindly. They had no information about the plant's interior layout or design.

Third, Nora needed to think carefully about how to engage the Corvega Raiders. Fighting them head on didn't seem like a very good idea. They would need to utilize every conceivable advantage if they hoped to succeed…

While she was brainstorming, a loud crashing sound startled her. She looked up from her notepad and carefully scanned the street. The streets of Goodneighbor were more dimly lit than usual, but she didn't see anything out of the ordinary. No one else seemed startled by the sound. She paused for a few more moments before looking down at her notepad again. Whatever that loud sound was, it made her lose her concentration and her train of thought. As she was trying to remember what she was thinking about before being distracted, she heard another loud sound – the squeaking of a rusty door being forced open.

Nora looked up from her notepad again and scanned the streets. On her left, she saw the door of the Memory Den open and close; the light from inside brightened the streets for a short moment reminding her of the sun peeping through the clouds on a heavily cloudy day. The streets became dark again once the door closed. A few seconds later, Nora saw a small orange flame appear briefly illuminating a familiar face.

Hancock stepped into the light of the streetlamps as he made his way over towards the Old Statehouse. Nora watched as he limped slowly towards the door. He was not wearing his usual revolutionary war get-up; instead, he wore simple black sweatpants, a long-sleeved gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and, of course, his leather trifold hat. When he was halfway between the Memory Den and the Old Statehouse, he saw her standing in front of the Rexford. He waved at her and changed his course.

"Hey, you," he said softly as he approached, exhaling a small cloud of cigarette smoke. He leaned up against the wall of the Rexford next to her and crossed his arms. "Did you manage to get any sleep?" Hancock asked as he looked over at her.

"No, not really," Nora responded, "I'm too wound up from the fight earlier to get any real sleep… too much adrenaline." Hancock chuckled knowingly. He reached into the pocket of his black sweatpants and retrieved a small antique flask. "Here, drink this," he said offering her the flask, "It'll take the edge off." Nora accepted the flask and took a hearty swig. The familiar taste of vodka burned her throat as it descended into her stomach. She didn't much care for vodka, but it did take the edge off.

Hancock and Nora passed the flask back and forth in silence for a few minutes until it was empty. Hancock then placed the flask back into his pants pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Nora noticed that his hand trembled slightly as he lit his cigarette. Despite his calm and cool demeanor, Nora could sense that he was incredibly stressed out; he was fraying around the edges trying desperately to hold himself together.

"How's your daughter?" Nora asked gently. "She's doing better," Hancock said staring straight ahead with a small and short-lived smile, "but Doc says that it will be several days before she can be released." He continued smoking his cigarette in silence.

Nora made several observations. She could tell that his smile was forced. Hancock was trying to act like everything was okay and under control, but his trembling hands told a different story. Nora slowly stepped sideways and closed the gap between them to the point where their shoulders were barely touching. She locked elbows with him like she had the night they first met and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I'm glad that your daughter is doing better," Nora whispered softly, "but how are you holding up? I know you're under a lot of stress with everything that has been going on around town lately." When Hancock didn't immediately respond, Nora explained herself to him in a slightly different way. "I'm not trying to pry into your private business or anything, but you look like a man who is struggling to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders," Nora continued, "I just want to make sure that you're alright. You've gone out of your way several times to make sure that I was safe and comfortable. I just want to return the same kindness to you."

Hancock remained silent for a few moments contemplating his response. "To be completely honest," Hancock said quietly, "I'm not handling the stress well right now. These attacks are getting more frequent and more intense. It makes me wonder if Goodneighbor would be better off – and safer – with someone else in charge."

"Why would you think that?" Nora asked, "Since I've been here, I've only heard good things. Everyone seems so fond of you."

"It probably does look that way from an outsider's perspective," Hancock said sadly, "But a lot of people in town aren't happy with the way I do things, like my open door policy for newcomers." Nora immediately thought of the acne-scarred man who harassed her when she first entered the gate. "Like Finn?" Nora asked. "Yeah," Hancock nodded, "Finn was a traitor and a giant asshole but maybe he was right about some things. Maybe I am getting too soft..."

"Soft?" Nora asked with a raised eyebrow, "Could you explain that to me because I don't see it. I mean, you straight up shanked a guy in the middle of town for challenging you. Also, during the attack, you were on the front lines with that badass minigun giving those Super Mutants express tickets to hell. And, despite your own personal injuries and concerns, I saw you out around town helping people rebuild after the attack. I wouldn't call any of that soft."

"Well, when you put it that way I really can't argue with you…" Hancock chuckled heartily. They both laughed as Nora comically reenacted Hancock's shanking of Finn. While Nora's caricature of Finn made her look like a grade-A dweeb, it was worth it to see Hancock laugh – he seemed much younger and carefree when he let his guard down. Happy looked really good on him.

When the laughter died down, Hancock and Nora moved their conversation over to the benches outside of the Old Statehouse to be respectful of those trying to sleep in the bedrolls near the Rexford.

"You asked me to explain what I meant by soft," Hancock began as they sat down on the bench, "It's a bit longwinded but knowing the context helps. The last mayor of Goodneighbor was this asshat named Vic. He was scum of the worst kind. He was cruel and mean – a real bully. But, when he was in charge, the town's economy was booming and we rarely ever had attacks."

"What happened to Vic?" Nora asked. A big smile crept onto Hancock's wrinkled face and his black eyes twinkled with mischief. "Vic and his boys treated us drifters like garbage," Hancock told her, "So one night, when his boys were good and drunk, we attacked them. When they were all dead, we stormed the Old Statehouse, wrapped a rope around Vic's neck, and threw that fucker off the balcony up there." Hancock pointed a withered finger to the balcony of the Old Statehouse. "I gotta admit though," Hancock continued, "seeing Vic hanging up there – it was probably the most festive decoration the Old Statehouse has had in quite some time."

Nora started giggling as she envisioned a tiny cartoon version of Hancock roundhouse kicking a bully off of the balcony. "Sounds like he deserved what he got," Nora said, "I can't stand a bully." Hancock chuckled. "Heh, me either," he said, "but attacks were down and caps were up while Vic was in charge. I haven't had as much luck."

"Why do you think that?" Nora asked. "Well, in terms of attacks, Goodneighbor had a darker, bloodier reputation back when Vic ran things," Hancock told her, "People knew better than to bring their bullshit here. And, in terms of caps, Vic – well, he was the type of guy who did whatever he could to earn money. He didn't care who he hurt or killed or manipulated as long as he could profit off of it. He was cruel and ruthless. He had no moral code or ethical limits-"

"And you do?" Nora asked. Hancock nodded. "Yeah, I'm not greedy like that," Hancock said looking down at his feet, "I'm not gonna stomp on people and crush their spirits just to make some extra caps. Life is hard enough without assholes like Vic making it worse."

"And you think that attitude makes you weak or soft?" Nora asked. Hancock sighed heavily. "That's what some people here in town think," Hancock said, "They've organized an opposition and want me gone. They want things to return to the way they were under Vic."

They sat in silence for a moment. Nora could tell that this topic weighed heavily on Hancock and she needed to choose her words carefully. She reached over and took one of his hands into her own, intertwining her fingers with his. "Let me ask you something," Nora said, "What do you think is more important in life: happiness or wealth?" Hancock thought for a moment. "That's a tough one," he said, "My mind says money but my heart says happiness. I honestly wouldn't mind having a bit of both."

"Let me ask this question another way," Nora responded, "I promise that there's a point to all of this so just bear with me. When Vic was in power, all he cared about was making money, right?" Hancock nodded. "Yeah, he was a selfish bully and a tyrant."

"And how did the people of Goodneighbor like living under Vic's rule?" Nora asked. "They hated it," Hancock said, "Everyone walked around on eggshells. We lived in a constant, perpetual state of fear. It was truly hell."

"Did the people of Goodneighbor feel like Vic appreciated and respected them – that he listened to them and took their concerns seriously?" Nora asked. Hancock snorted. "Not at all," Hancock said, "Vic tortured and killed anyone who complained about the state of things, so people quit talking."

"Were the people of Goodneighbor loyal to Vic?" Nora asked. Hancock snorted again. "Hell no," he said, "They danced in the street when I pushed that fat greasy fucker off the balcony. We partied for days after his death. It was a pretty wild celebration until the chems and caps ran out…"

"Okay, now let me ask you this," Nora said, "Do the people of Goodneighbor walk on eggshells now that you're in charge?" Hancock shook his head no. "Do the people of Goodneighbor live in a perpetual state of fear now that you're in charge?" Nora continued. Hancock shook his head again. "Are the people of Goodneighbor afraid to bring their concerns to your attention?" Nora asked. Hancock shook his head.

"Do you think that the people of Goodneighbor live better, happier lives with you as their mayor?" Nora asked. Hancock paused for a moment before shrugging. "I hope so," he said, "but life is hard even now. Business at the Rexford simply isn't what it used to be…"

"Life will always be hard no matter what," Nora said, "But don't think for one second that kindness, understanding, and mutual respect is weakness. Love is far more powerful than hate. I've seen you interact with people in this town. You treat them with respect and dignity. You treat them like family and make them feel comfortable and connected. That is a powerful thing. A leader who actually gives a fuck about his people like you obviously do is a rare thing. They know that and they love you for it."

Hancock gave her a small smile. "I guess you're right," he said. "I know I'm right," Nora chuckled, "Think about it. When the Super Mutants attacked, the people of this town took up arms and followed you willingly into battle. Do you think that they would have done the same for a tyrant like Vic?"

"No," Hancock said. "Exactly," Nora continued, "They didn't have a future worth fighting for with Vic in charge. They weren't about to risk their lives for someone who treated them like garbage. But with you, they know that they have a leader with a good heart who really cares about them."

"Stop ittttt," Hancock chuckled, "All these compliments - you're making me blush." Nora started giggling as Hancock pretended to be bashful and embarrassed. "Listen," Nora said with a grin as she playfully poked Hancock's ribs, "Don't devalue yourself or your contributions to Goodneighbor. Everything isn't about money. You make this place more than just an ordinary settlement – you make it a home. You bring people together and give them something worthwhile to fight for – a future they want to be a part of. And for that, they'll stand with you through hard times and support your decisions. Because you're kind – because you care – because you show them every day with your words and actions that you love them. And love is far more powerful than hate or greed."

Hancock looked at her and showed her a genuine smile. "Thanks, Nora," he said, "it means a lot to me to hear you say that. This job is really stressful sometimes, so getting positive feedback makes me feel better."

They sat together on the bench for a while in silence simply enjoying each other's company. "So what's on your mind?" Hancock asked warmly. Nora hesitated for a moment before deciding to divulge her situation. "One of the settlers from Sanctuary has gone missing," Nora said quietly, "An old woman by the name of Mama Murphy. Since I helped them before in Concord, the other settlers came here to ask for my help. But I'm not really sure where to even start looking for a missing person here..."

Nora sensed Hancock's mood darken abruptly. His obsidian eyes scanned the empty street around them. "You know," Hancock said as he stood up, "we should continue this conversation in a more private setting. Why don't we go to my office?" Nora agreed and followed him into the Old Statehouse.

...


End file.
